


The Age of Shadows

by SteinShipping61



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Apocalypse, BL, Gay Male Character, Genderfluid Character, Heka - Freeform, LGBTQ, M/M, Magic, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, Thiefshipping, Yaoi, wishshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 12:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteinShipping61/pseuds/SteinShipping61
Summary: Zorc grew strong, powerful and plunged the world into darkness after defeating the Pharaoh. Now the shadows roam freely, devouring the souls of the sick and damned.Akefia Bakura is now free of Zorc and all his feelings come rushing back, those the shadow realm had numbed in his years as a spirit, trapped inside the ring with the numbness of the shadows.Marik Ishtar is running scared, thrown from his home as the shadows consume the encounter of Egypt, raising the dead and torturing the Gods in a fresh, surfaced Hell. The only place he has friends is Domino City, so that's where he heads.But he ends up with more than friends.





	1. 1

Yugi's eyes filled with tears as he watched the spirit of Pharaoh Atem fade away, his body screaming and burning in a lake of fire which expands across the world, destroying the small towns of Egypt. Dying cries ring through the desert, the pyramids shaking and crumbling as Zorc crushes them underfoot. "D-Don't leave me alone..." Yūgi whimpers, falling to his knees as the unresponsive spirit becomes nothing more than a velvet black sky. And then a red beam shoots across this sky, the clouds billowing over scarlet lightning. Blood begins to rain down upon the world, Yugi lying down, curling up with nothing left to live for. "Y-Yami...I have to see you again..." 

His hands ball into fists and he accepts his death, feeling the flames lick around his body, encroaching closer and closer. 

On molten rock, black rock which overlooks the lake of fire, the shadows whip around Akefia's body, changing him morphing him into the creation of Zorc. Zorc has been trapped inside him until now, inside that scrawny 5 foot 6 teenager, what a waste of life. What a low point, that he had to cling to existence through the thoughts of Akefia. 

But Akefia was worthy and to thank him, Zorc will leave his mind. Leave his body. Uncloud his judgement and personality and manifest him into Ryou's body. 

Bakura opens his eyes, staring over the planes of Egypt as Zorc's terror begins to unfold. He was just in his own body again after 3,000 years in a ring. In that cold dimension of silence and suffering. And now he's back there, trapped now not in a ring but in a body that isn't his own, the one that belongs to Ryou Bakura. One that feels foreign, one his disassociates with. He notices his reflection in the blood, disconnecting it to what he knows it should be. Replacing pale skin with dark, white hair with grey, brown eyes with amethyst and adding the jagged scars but then the blood shifts and his reflection returns to what it actually is. 

Not him. 

Bakura begins to cry, sobbing loudly at the top of his voice, waiting as all his memories and fears and feelings Zorc repressed return all at once, waves of pain and complete melancholy crashing into his brain over and over, bruising it. "I'm all alone..." he whispers. He looks for Zorc's voice in his head but it's no longer there. He is completely alone, surrounded by the pandemonium of revelation. 

4 Years Later. 

Marik steps down from his bed, staring vacantly into his mirror. Hair sticking up and plastered against his face, blonde locks shimmering from morning light streaming into his bedroom he's lived in for two weeks. That tiny bedroom, dark and enclosed, felt safe after the wide deserts and exposed elements, buildings without windows, hanging over the street as wind whistled into his home. No, he isn't there anymore. No longer in the vast country of Egypt. Instead, he's in Domino City, the second largest city in England. Marik twirls hair between his fingers as he set up his battery-powered hair straighteners, straightening his hair in the mirror, watching the smoke arise from the coarse, straw-like strands. After returning to Egypt after Battle City he was studying theology at a secular private university in Egypt, a Religious School which was incredibly prestigious with an Azhar Education. He was so over-qualified and had ah a vast knowledge he was on track to obtain his degree a year early. But he couldn't stay there...

The shadows have consumed the country of Egypt. They flock to where the magic is strongest and Egypt, East Asia, the rural Middle East, Latin America and Domino City were the places they concentrated in. Nothing survived, everything nature sustained wiped out. He had to leave, felt like an ass abandoning his siblings for a quest to discover something more, to make an impact on a world he helped destroy. 

Domino High is an imperial grey building shrouded in the darkness of the rolling clouds above which thickly blanketed the sky. A grey, flat duel field with fading white lines makes Marik frown. It was once full of students, a centre of competition and improvement. Now the platforms are crushed, the field derelict and empty. Nothing survives apparently, not even the Heart of the Cards the Pharaoh preached. The windows are boarded over, crashed into and out of, shattered glass teetering on the edge of falling and crashing onto the field. "Fuck, this is worse than Egypt. The shadows destroyed it," he contemplates. 

Marik pushes open the door, hearing it creak as he does. Stepping between patches of debris crushed into corners he steps into the centre of the darkened social hall. His hand rests on the holster of his weapon as he stares into the shadows, watching silhouettes of white plasma dissipate through the air. Silent until a loud click. "Who is it? State your business!" 

Marik smirks. "I couldn't forget that voice. Yugi, it's me!"

Yugi Mutou steps from the corridor, smiling in comradeship and throwing his large rifle over his shoulder. He's dressed in a black dress shirt, dark blue skinny jeans and belts stringing across his chest, waist and thighs holding weapons hanging from his body. "Well if it isn't Marik Ishtar? What's it been, five years?" He grins at Marik, sticking out his hand. 

"Six, and you're still short," Marik shakes it before embracing him in a tight hug. "Fuck, I can't believe I found you. I didn't even know you were still alive!" 

Static sounds over Yugi's walkie-talkie, sounding like the clicking of a pen. Click. CLICK CLICK. click. CLICK. Morse code, then. "Don't worry, I'm coming back," he responds to the communicator. "Marik is with me, I'll explain when I get there. Over," 

—-...- . .-. / .- -. -.. / --- ..- - .-.-.- 

Yugi shuts off his walkie-talkie. "C'mon, you look tired," Marik is, not only from his long walk but also from carrying the heavy weight of his gun. He follows Yugi through the maze of corridors, backed by a battery torch which flickers until Yugi taps it off his hand. "So where are you staying?"

"I got a little apartment when I moved a month ago. Landlord is nice..." Marik contemplates, staring at cockroaches scuttle across the floor, fleeing from the light of the torch. He always stays behind Yugi, looking back, hand trembling and ready to unholster his gun and blast. "The shadows aren't so prevalent in my area. But everything is dark, and cold. All the time..." 

The shadows filled the skies after they were released from the shadow realm, blocking out the sun like ash from a volcano. The average global temperature has been cooled from 14.9 Celsius to 12 Celsius. Great for the ice caps, not great for many northern nations like Russia and Iceland which simply perished under sheets of ice, millions of people frozen to death in time. "Agreed. We can't even go out anymore, not that we'd want to. The shadows are sill looking for us," 

"Maybe they wouldn't be if you'd stop trying to destroy them," Marik points out with a sigh as they reach the HQ Yugi built inside the school. 

Yugi reached out to Marik three months ago, writing him a letter he was sure wouldn't be delivered. 

Dear Marik Ishtar.  
I don't know if you're alive, you probably aren't. Since the shadows took over, we're in dire need.  
We began fighting back when we returned to Domino from Egypt. We will rid this world of the shadows, it will be as it was. Everything is miserable and we won't stand for it.  
Ryou has been working on something to counter the shadows, to bring the Pharaoh back and fight them. But we need your back to translate the ancient scriptures on how to do this, most of the info was destroyed after the shadows took over. We're running out of time as he shadows close in on us every day, I fear they'll kill us for resisting. Please, Marik. If you're alive. If you get this come to Domino High, we'll wait forever if we have to. 

Yugi. 

"Hm, you're probably right," Yugi chuckles as they reach the upstairs room with a door riddled in splinters. Inside sits Joey Wheeler, Tea Gardner and Ryou Bakura, warming their hands by a small fire from which smoke escapes through a ventilation shaft. 

"Marik!" Ryou stands up and rushes over, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight squeeze. "I've missed you so much, I'm so happy you're alive!" 

"I'm...glad to see you," Marik smiles softly down at the man. Ryou lost most of his baby face over the years, but his eyes are still wide and innocent, his shoulders broader and his fashion sense changed. Marik notices the pastel flannel of green and blue and purple, and the lilac stripes stretching across his shirt. He's cute, but that's it. Cute. "You're looking alive," 

"You too," Ryou chuckles. "And I'm so glad," 

"Uh...guys?" Joet interrupts form the corner. 

"Yeah?" Yugi asks. 

"Are we not gonna tell him or what?" 

Marik stares, concerned between Yugi and Ryou as they share a look of abject surprise. Questions passing between them, the forefront should we tell him? lurking around among them. 

"Tell me what?" 

"Marik," Ryou takes his hand, gripping it tightly in his own small, smooth warm one. "Bakura's back,"


	2. Chapter 2

Marik stares in shock between Joey, Yūgi and Ryou for a moment before he gulps, his mind on PAUSE to let him process this. His own autopilot guides him into a chair, one of the black wire chairs set up around the fire, flames trickling into the air with the tiniest puff of smoke emitting every few seconds. It's barely even a fire: it isn't warm, and only lights the room from its reflection off the windows. "Bakura? But how, if Ryou's here..." he asks. "Is he back in his own body?" 

"No," Ryou shakes his head sadly. "His body was consumed by Zorc and the shadows, he hadn't had control of it for such a long time. He was just given my body, well a clone of it, as a vessel for his soul. He was immune to the shadows, they couldn't devour his spirit so he's just wandering in a shell now," 

"Bakura..." Marik contemplates, squeezing his eyes closed to force back the tears. It isn't that he cares about Bakura, not that. He just empathises with him, understands the pain of being trapped in a foreign body, on the inside looking out as what belongs to you is used as some depraved vessel by someone else. Being trapped inside yourself. He looks up at Ryou, who's felt it too. And Yugi, at least before the spirit of the Puzzle became friendly with him. "Ryou, I'm sorry, about all the stuff Bakura and I did in your body without your consent. I didn't get it then, I thought he was the dominant personality. But I get it now, and even if my apology doesn't mean jack shit, I'm sorry," 

Ryou sits up straight, completely taken aback. The Marik he knew would never have apologised. "Thanks, Marik. That actually does mean a lot," a pleased smile spreads across his face. 

Marik smiles, but its artificial. It doesn't reach his eyes. "So what do you need me to do? I'm not joining your cause or anything, the world was broken before the shadows came," he explains. "But I'll help you out," 

"I just need to trace the inscription on your back, even write it down. And can you translate?" Ryou asks, perked up a little by Marik's apology and the good news, excited about getting closer to the shadows. "I hope we can bring the Pharaoh back with this, he's the only one who can banish the shadows," 

"Let's hope," Marik agrees, enthusiasm absent form his voice. He grabs the ends of his shirt and pulls it off, exposing his broad back and the inscriptions of the Pharaoh carved into it as deep scars. He would be excited, maybe, if his mind wasn't wandering to Bakura. 

"Finished!" Ryou chirps happily when he finishes his drawing, skills in art meaning he gets the placement very close to the actual image, very carefully marking out the hieroglyphics. He hands the crumpled notebook to Marik, who skims his lettering for a second. Ryou holds out the pen, but he doesn't take it. 

"I'll translate it," Marik decides. "But I want to see Bakura first,"

"What?" Yugi gasps, disappointment flooding his system. He thought Marik stopped being manipulative after Battle City, he said they're friends! Now he's holding the fate of the entire world for ransom, all to see Bakura. 

Joey thinks of it in a different way, more perceptively perhaps. If Marik is willing to go this far to see Bakura, he must really miss him. He thought it was just mutualism in Battle City, but maybe the two were closer than he thought. "He lives a block over, the red apartment building, Door 4," 

"Joey-!" Yugi whines. 

"Yug, trust me. Marik will come back and translate it," he assures, giving his boyfriend a hard look, his intense eyes whispering trust me. Yugi purses his lips together and nods. 

"Okay," 

Marik grins. "Thanks. I'll sneak out - the shadows won't see me. I'll be back soon, maybe not today," 

"Marik," Ryou squeaks in a soft, innocent voice. "If you don't come back by moonlight tomorrow, I know enough about the occult to kill you remotely. Or worse, curse you," 

"I'll be back," he promises, slinging his gun over his shoulder before bolting downstairs, back to the vast hall. He checks the coast is clear and sets off for Door 4. 

* 

The knife held in his hands, precisely positioned just to the side of his head. He counts, waits. His eyes foxed on the target. He flicks his hand forward, watching the blade swoop past his face and - CRACK! - it slams into the board with a dull thud, and the target is neutralised. In other words, the celery has been cut in half. Dismembered by the evil Bakura and used brazenly as the deranged man's meal. Dipped in peanut butter of course. 

What Bakura calls a meal is rudely interrupted by an obnoxious knocking at his chamber door. Suddenly his senses seem heightened, more alert. Is it his landlord, here to demand payment for some jacked-up rent bill charge? He creeps up to the door and almost has a heart attack when he sees the familiar face on the other side. Opening the door, he can't stop himself flinging his arms around Marik. "Fuck - you're alive," he sighs in relief. 

Marik, taken aback, jolts in shock for a second before relaxing in his arms. "Good to see you, Kura," 

Bakura pulls away, now with a deep frown on his face. "You know, you could have called me," he walks into his apartment, leaving the door open for Marik to follow. 

"I didn't know you came back after the shadows," Marik admits reluctantly, stepping into the home. It's run-down and in ruins, as are most of the buildings here with the high concentration of shadows. A hole blown through the wall is covered by navy blue fabric curtains worn in heavy cotton to block out the elements. A small metal pot jitters above an open fire. The place resembles a Brazilian shanty town rather than what it once was, an upscale apartment in a Domino City street. 

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Bakura shakes his head, unable to keep the shit-eating grin off his face. "I meant after Battle City, you dork. You never stuck around. You left, and we didn't even say goodbye," 

"Since when did you become all sentimental?" Marik asks sceptically. This isn't the Bakura he knows, not the evil bastard he remembers from Battle City. He's different somehow, he seems less sadistic and calculating, lacking this silent gaze of a cunning plan. "Besides I had some shit to work out. Reconciling with my family, getting over my past as an evil prick," Marik pauses and Bakura scowls for a second before his expression returns to normal. 

"Yeah, makes sense, I guess," Bakura agrees, no enthusiasm in his voice. He just drapes over his couch, no energy left in him.

"What about you?" Marik asks, sitting beside him and running his hands though Bakura's hair. It was still so fluffy and poofy. "What have you been doing?" 

"Well, Zorc won as you can see," Bakura chuckles, gesturing to the world they inhabit. 

"But aren't you...?" 

"No, as it happens I'm not Akefia anymore. Nothing like him I'm fact. 3,009 years of Zorc suppressing my emotions and influencing me, plus all the memories and experiences I have from that well, I can't call myself the same person I was in Ancient Egypt," 

"I guess not. If we're defined by our experiences, in all senses he's dead," Marik reasons, wondering how close this Bakura is to the Zorc-crazed maniac he remembers so fondly. "So, should we catch up or...?" 

Suddenly, Bakura shoots into a sitting position, staring Marik right in the face. "Let's fuck," 

"Wh-What?!" Marik backs away, shocked by the idea by not averse to it. "Why would you say that?!" 

"Cause I want to," Bakura chuckles. "And when you think about it, I haven't had a lay in over 3,000 years," 

Marik grins, shaking his head and pressing his lips so softly against Bakura's. When he pulls back, they lock eyes intensely. "Damn, I can't argue with you when you're being so rational," 

"Welcome change from your stupid PMSing days," Bakura giggles behind his grin. Marik rolls his eyes and pushed him away. 

"Aaaand the moment's gone. Thanks for that - scarred for life but thanks," Marik huffs, but still stares down at Bakura with longing in his eyes. There's been no relaxing for him, not since the shadows took over. The thought of letting go like that with Bakura is all too appealing now it's been mentioned. He slides into Bakura's lap, draping his long legs over and letting his hot breath tickle Bakura's ear. "How have you been? Really, I mean. With everything," he asks with a hum, leaning his head on Bakura's shoulder and letting his hair drape over. 

"Candlelight," 

Marik lifts his head, staring at him in slightly fearful confusion. "What? 

"We should get candlelight, it's growing ever darker," he sighs, dragging his body from the chair and leaning over a fire, stoking it slightly, finding a slowly flickering ember buried under the dying charcoal dust, blowing gently, so gently, onto it and letting a small twig be engulfed on the stone floor. Marik watches in fascination, wondering how Bakura can perform these practical skills so seamlessly. He forgets Bakura's history, especially his recent return to Ancient Egypt and his previous body. His memories flooding back, and living like ancient times more natural to his psyche than adapting to the confusing modern world. "You can't leave tonight, not in the dark," 

As if to prove his point, a harsh screaming echoes through the city, desperate and agonising. Instinctively, Marik's hand jerks closer to his holster, stroking his gun for a second before he relaxes. So focused and alert, nothing like the relaxed Bakura. Bakura really never was relaxed, so what's changed? He doesn't seem like the spirit Marik knew in Battle City and he doesn't know how to feel about this. "I need to return by nightfall tomorrow," 

"Don't worry, my body clock is set to sunrise," Bakura explains with an aloof grin, one he wears while setting up the pullout couch. Marik realises it's the only bed he has, and they need to share. Memories invade his brain of sharing a body between them, cramped and intimate. But this situation is hardly optimal for romance. "You'll be out of here by high noon," 

I don't want to be Marik thinks. He wants to spend as much time as possible with his beloved Bakura. He wants to return to the past, share stories and laugh. He wants to plot to defeat the Pharaoh like old times. "Great..." he sighs, staring at one particularly interesting spot in the carpet. 

"Well?" Bakura looks over at him. Marik snaps his head up, seeing Bakura standing by the pull-out holding up the corner of a tattered blue blanket. "Coming or not?" 

"That's..." he hesitates, staring into Bakura's unwavering gaze. "Okay...?" 

"Of course," Bakura nods. The spirit pulls up his jumper, revealing the briefest glimpse of pale skin before his shirt falls to cover it. He scoots to the far side, right at the wall. The cold presses up against his back, reminding him of nights alone, huddled among blankets in the desert some 3,000 years ago. 

Marik sits on the futon and unties his long boots, leaving them by the side before pulling off his bullet-proof vest and lying his guns gently on the floor. He trusts Bakura not to kill him and rob him in his sleep - plus he has noting worth robbing. He lies beside Bakura stiffly, staring up at the ceiling. Bakura, the exhibitionist he is sprawls out, stretching up his arms and yawning before curling up, facing Marik with his eyes closed. His breathing is so much warmer now than when he was just a spirit. 

"Night Marik," he mutters in a sleepy voice, almost pouting. 

"Hm," Marik smiles down endearingly at him, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair. "Night my Kura," thankfully Bakura is absorbed in dreamland by now, too asleep to notice the nickname.


	3. Chapter 3

At some point during the night, Bakura rolls over and curls up against Marik. He nuzzles against him like a baby kitten, laying his head in Marik's nape. Every so often, a small whimper escapes his lips, face scrunched up in - admittedly adorable - discomfort. The tombkeeper wonders what he's dreaming about, thinking of. What could scare the mighty thief so much he seeks the warmth of another. The fire has long since flickered to a sad ashy pit and that's why Marik lets Bakura cuddles him, he's grateful for the body heat. 

At least that's his excuse.

Bakura doesn't dream much anymore. He dreams of Egypt, a longing to return. He dreams of triumph and revenge but mostly his dreams are empty. That's what scares him the most - not the nightmares of his haunting past, the ghosts of Kul Elna torturing him with bloody images of childhood trauma. What scares him, makes him seek comfort in the night and cry out in his sleep is the void where dreams used to be. The void where dreams slowly fade from as if they never existed at all. He used to dream every night, now once a week. Maybe. They become shorter and more infrequent and Bakura vows the day his dreams disappear forever will be the day he takes his own life. 

Bakura feels his dreams slip away. He opens his eyes as the mild light, the tiny specs that creep through the shadows, reaches his eyes.  Bakura sits up, rubbing his head as his hair sticks to his face, fixing it into position and brushing it away from his forehead. He looks at the window where a vague shadow of Marik tends to the fire. Marik looks up, his makeup smudged and making his eyes more distinguished, like a smokey effect. Bakura blushes - he looks hot. A messy, raunchy, BladeRunner replicant kind of hot. It makes Bakura smirk, feeling the evil rise within him once more. A burst of confidence he hasn't felt in a while, like in Battle City. "Morning," Marik gestures to the fire. "I made breakfast," 

"Burned meat," Bakura observes, feeling his feet in thick socks pad on the ground. 

"All you have in this house is meat," Marik mutters, making Bakura chuckle in amusement. His skinny frame crouches by the fire, watching it dance for a moment before he grabs a small hunk of steak from the pan and tears into it rabidly, spraying charcoal dust and cinders from his morsel. It doesn't matter if it's crumbling in his hands, he's so famished he can handle Marik's terrible cooking. 

That isn't fair. He reminds himself. Marik was never taught household maintenance in the tombs, he has no idea how to cook or clean or do housework. 

Bakura dismissively waves a knife in his direction. "You can stay here as long as you want. No need to return to those idiots," 

"Idiots?" Marik scoffs. "They're my friends Kura. Besides, Ryou threatened to curse me," 

"Oh, you don't wanna piss off Ryou when he's messing about with his occult," he reminds himself. "Okay, in that case good luck,"

"You aren't coming?!" 

"Wasn't planning to," Bakura shrugs. "I haven't seen them since I returned," 

"It would be better if you come," Marik looks up at him sadly. "Please Kura. I'm more confident when I'm with you," 

"Fine," Bakura rolls his eyes. "I have no idea how you survived the apocalypse," 

They return to the school, sure to keep to light areas, sneaking through where the shadows' presence wasn't so intense. After the shadows came, it was discovered quickly that the lighter an area, even from unnatural light, the less powerful the shadows were. Pulling himself up a fence, he hauls himself through the third floor window, creeping through he steel netting and inside the building. "It's me!" He calls through, and Ryou's soft voice calls back from the upper floors.

They ascend where Ryou has set up a small ritual space. Marik's tattoo inscription lies before him along with three open occult textbooks, information highlighted in pink gel pen and transferred to other papers in neat little writing of the same colour. Bakura grins - it's a very Ryou approach to ancient rituals. "You never did change, did you?" 

Ryou gives him a small smile, behind which a broken person tries. It's forced. The positivity is forced too. Obligation to shine a beacon of light in the darkness of despair, only Ryou outs that obligation on himself. It isn't helpful to anyone. "Okay Marik, can you translate?" 

Marik kneels by the inscription and translates from hieroglyphs to Japanese letters, adding accents to help Ryou with pronunciation. "Thanks!" he nods to Marik, gathering his papers and sealing them in a cat binder, neatly piling up his textbooks. "No problem," Marik assures. "But what now?" 

"Oh, I just needed you for the translation," Ryou dismisses. 

"But I wanna known the plan," Marik whines, sitting beside Ryou and adjusting the heavy belt over his hips. Ryou, Yugi, Joey and Tea exchange uneasy glances. Tension in the rook grows thick and it's so silent they can hear a low whistle of the wind beyond the windows. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Joey growls. "Nah - not happenin'," 

"Why?!" Marik demands angrily. 

"I'd like to know your plan too," Bakura speaks darkly, in a calm voice, fixing his eyes on Yūgi. "As the person here who knows most about this, I think I know what you're planning. So either tell Marik or I will,"

Yugi stands tall (despite how short he is) and fixes Bakura with a determined stare. He can't hide the fear in his eyes, but he's got more resolve than Bakura realised. Yūgi has grown into a fine young adult, not much taller but with sharper eyes and a jawbone that offsets his baby face. He doesn't look intimidating, but isn't the little kid you can push around anymore. "Fine. Marik, we're going to Egypt to recover the puzzle, reassemble it and bring back the Pharaoh. This is when the chant is needed," 

"You're under no obligation to join us," Ryou adds quickly. "I know you came here to escape the shadows there," not the best move, since this city is also overrun by shadows. 

"I'm coming," Marik states firmly. "You're my friends, even if we haven't talked in a long time. I contributed to this and I'm going to set it right," 

"I'm coming too," Bakura declares with a glare that dares the rest of them to challenge him. "Zork used me to make his happen. I control my own destiny - not him! And I'll destroy his entire plan to prove it," 

Nobody objects. Tea grabs a heavy AK from the corner and slings it over her shoulder, clicking it into place with a determined grin. "Perfect. Then let's suit up,"


	4. Chapter 4

Unlike Marik, Bakura, and most people, they can't all walk through the shadows relatively safe from danger. Shadows won't attack just anyone without a reasons usually, but Yūgi is a marked man, as are Ryou and Joey and Tea. Wanted by Zork, ruler of the kingdom once called Earth for their rebellion against the shadows. Yugi, for fighting their uprising with the Pharaoh. Ryou for reading prohibited books on magic and spells, using his knowledge of the occult to try and reverse the shadows. Joey and Tea, guilty by association. So they crawl through the light were the shadows cannot see, concealed behind armour and bandanas. They hug the crumbling walls of derelict buildings and sneak trough city passageways known to Marik, ones he used to move the rare hunters around Battle City. 

The airports are still running, but barely. Old, run-down planes leaving infrequently with horrible delays due to inclement weather, piloted by amateurs. And of course they can't just get on a plane and go, not when the bounty on their heads is so big. So they hope against hope that Seto Kaiba, previous CEO of a billion dollar company, will be able to help. 

They arrive at the old KaibaCorp HQ, the glass walls smashed in and letters KC bent and hovering above them, waiting for a gust of wind to throw them to the ground. Ryou, the only one Kaiba doesn't have any issue with, is the one to lead them through. The old reception hall full of debris seems eerily quiet. They tentatively approach the desk, ringing the rusty little bell in the corner. They're surprised it still works. From the back corridor emerges Mokuba Kaiba, now 17, wearing a white suit and pink collared shit, around his neck sitting a well-knotted tie. His hair is shorter now, brushed and styled nicely. Nobody else has looked like him in a long time, since nobody has anybody to impress. How can they, when their society has been destroyed? So why is he still dressed like a businessman from before the shadows came?

"Oh, it's you guys," he observes, his voice deeper now. "What are you doing here? Did anyone follow you?" He looks beyond the smashes walls into the streets for anyone tracking the fugitives. 

"No, I made sure of that," Ryou tells him. "Listen, we need a plane. We need to get to Egypt and if the shadows see us, we're doomed," 

"I can help you with fake documents," Mokuba states. "But a plane will get noticed. Zork has people at every airport in every country and the shadows roam the atmosphere looking for anything suspicious, anything to guard their realm," 

Ryou sighs. "I thought as much," 

"Besides," Mokuba continues, spreading himself across the desk. He looks at Bakura briefly, an unspoken understanding between the two. In truth, Mokuba has always liked Bakura, but the crush is one-sided. "There's no way you'll even get into Egypt without being surrounded by shadows. That's where the densest population of Zork's informants are, and the highest concentration of shadow magic. No, that's impossible. I can't get you a plane,"

Yugi's chest deflates as the hope spills out with his deep exhale. His body slumps onto an old office chair with ripped cushioning and one wonky wheel. He breathes deeply and heavily, forcing so much air into his lungs they sting and cramp like the sides are tearing. How many litres of oxygen can lungs hold again? He wonders, realising this is his own fucked up form of mindfulness. He'd been taught to do mindfulness once, with a school councillor after his parents died. It had felt really stupid, but now he realises it's forcing him to think clearly about what's actually happening, rather than about his failure and the pharaoh. "What do we do now?" He asks, honestly willing to take any suggestion no matter how outlandish or egregious. Yes, it's gotten that desperate. 

"I know exactly what to do, it's simple really," Bakura's voice is low and growling, and Marik is reminded of Battle City. He looks at Bakura and sees not this adult man surviving an apocalypse, but the sadistic child he remembers from then. "I'm going to convince Zork to let us go," 

Bakura refuses to tell anyone his plan. Anyone, even as they await nightfall in the KaibaCorp HQ. Looking around, Yugi realises he still hasn't seen Seto Kaiba. Nobody else seems worried - do they know something he doesn't? They're all quiet, Marik especially who's trapped in a loop of experiencing conflicting feelings about Bakura, ones from Battle City he'd forgotten and have now resurfaced. And new ones, more dangerous and possessive ones. He keeps staring at Bakura who pretends not to notice, and keeps stoking the small fire erected in the centre of the glass-walled hub. Marik can't figure out his plan no matter how deep he thinks, how engrossed he becomes in analysing the mind of this brilliant strategist and his long-con that, for all intensive purposes actually worked. 

When Nightfall lands there echoes the first screaming of the damned. Ghostly figures rise from the beneath concrete streets, mangled monsters swoop through stale night air thick with warp gates producing ectoplasmic shadow creatures. Bakura suddenly stands, gripping the gun in his holster. "Where are you going?!" Marik asks when he walks towards the door. 

"Don't follow me!" Bakura hisses, but too late. They're beyond the safety of the building now and the creatures converge upon them. "Fuck!" 

The translucent form of a spirit grips Bakura's arm with it long talons, dragging him back with it to the warp gate. "Bakura!" Marik calls, chasing after him as he disappears into the black. Marik pulls out his gun, hands shaking as he aims it at the huge sheet of black that drapes across the atmosphere. 

He can't shoot. He can't see Bakura, what if he hits him by accident?

So he does the next best thing. Charges into the warp gate, reaching forward in the darkness desperately to find Bakura. Trying to grip an arm, leg, something to find him. Eventually he feels a wrist in his grasp, but can't see who it belongs to. He calls out, but his voice is muffled as if underwater, and they're too deep in this thick abyss to pull the person to safely. Yes, this is how Marik Ishtar dies. 

Until the darkness fades away, and they've been warped somewhere else. Somewhere new, that smells like sulphur and exists cramped inside a cavern of obsidian. Red steam rises between cracks in the floor. Before him Bakura lies sprawled on the rock, bleeding through his armour. "You stupid fuck..." Bakura growls. "I knew what I was doing, you could have ruined this!"

"Ruined what, what's going on?!" 

"What a good question," 

The voice is terrifying. It's terrifying for its volume and how it creeps into your ears like a wriggling parasite. Marik gulps, eyes widening in shock and realisation. Bakura sighs, tensing his shoulders and curling in on himself. "I'm here to beg Zork for a favour,"

The shadows before them morph into a gelatinous form of Zork, like one mimicked and formed from a slime card. Bakura kneels before him, teeth gritting in anger. "I wondered when you'd come crawling back. What is it you want this time?" 

Marik frowns. This time?

"I want you to allow myself and,.. the Pharaoh's hikari, to travel to Egypt," 

"The Pharaoh is dead. Gone. Defeated. Why should I let you revive him?"

"I'm not asking you to do that. Just grant us safe passage without your shadow demons following us," Bakura suddenly stands, staring intensely at Zorc. "I'll offer you whatever you want in return. Just name your price," 

Meanwhile, Yugi and the gang lounge around the KC HQ, only the lower floors Mokuba permitted them access to. Joey glares at the regal paintings hung of Kaiba's childhood awards. "Dammit, they should be back by now!" 

"I agree - how long can we really wait?" Tea asks worriedly. Yugi watches them both. Joey fuelled by anger and Tea fear.

"Guys, I'm sure it's fine," Yugi assures, placing his hand on Joey's and squeezing it slightly for support. He looks up at his boyfriend, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He sighs, feeling Joey's warmth comfort his anxieties. He wants to reassure everyone, but knows he isn't the most qualified to do so. "Hey Ryou?" 

"Yeah?" Ryou looks up from a reference book on Ancient Egyptian engineering techniques plucked from the downstairs KaibaCorp Library.  

"Whatever Bakura did in the past, can we trust him?" 

"Yes," Ryou answer's immediately. "I spent years with Bakura in that ring. He didn't want a world ruled by shadows. He never wanted any of this," 

"I believe you," Yugi agrees. Ryou is right, this was never Bakura's plan. It was Zork's. And besides, how can he get his revenge on the Pharaoh if he's been forced into the afterlife?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joey Wheeler is genderfluid in this story, his female name is Josephine or shortened to ‘Jo’.

Bakura steps back through the warp gate, which implodes behind him, collapsing on itself. Thankfully he manages to yank Marik through it in time. "You're a fucking idiot for coming with me!" His teeth grit in anger, but his eyes are wild with a look Marik knows well. Bakura is terrified. He yanks Marik into a tight hug, one that radiates warmth through his body, easing the cold on his exposed skin. With no sunlight, Vitamin D is low and people of Marik's skin colour get very sick, very easily. He needs light and warmth, and he only has Bakura to give him that. 

As he stares into Bakura's eyes, he shakes his head. "How could you...?" He whispers, as the footsteps of the others run up to join him. 

"What happened?!" Joey asks, spinning Bakura around and checking him for wounds. "Are you okay bud?" 

"I'm fine!" Bakura insists, pushing Joey the overeager puppy off him. He huffs and adjusts his now wrinkled jacket. Ryou watches quietly from the sidelines. 

"What did you do?" He asks Bakura lowly. 

"I fixed it," Bakura tells him in a voice that demands no retort. "We can go to Egypt now. That's it," 

"But-" 

"Ryou, I fixed it," he walks ahead to join the wistful lovebirds in the HQ, leaving Ryou and Marik standing in the empty street. 

"Marik, what did he do?" 

Marik purses his lips together, a thin layer of tears over his eyes. He wants to tell Ryou so badly. His lips quiver, arms shake. "That's Bakura's secret to tell. Not mine," 

"We can get on a normal plane now," Bakura tells them. "Mokuba, you have Internet access. Can you book the closest one with six free seats?" Mokuba begins typing on his archaic keyboard hooked up to a monitor with a broken screen. 

"The closest one is tomorrow afternoon you guys," he sighs. 

"Damn, we were hoping to leave today," Ryou mutters. "Can we stay here tonight?" 

"Of course," Mokuba smiles. He stand up from the desk and walks from the room. "Again, just stay on the ground floor okay?"

"Wait, where are you going?" Bakura asks. 

"Nowhere," Mokuba waves, already halfway into the elevator. "Bye guys," they hear the faint whirring of steel as the elevator ascends and are left in the lobby. Silence falls over them, the realisation this is actually happening, they're about to embark on a journey to reverse time. Eventually, it begins to grow cold and ever darker. Ryou lights candles and Yugi tugs down the blackout blinds to shield them from the shadows. 

"What now?" Marik asks. 

"We should make a fire to warm us during the night," Ryou explains. "I assume everyone here has sleeping bags?" 

"I don't," Bakura raises his hand. Marik nods, he doesn't either. "Do you want to share Mokuba's spinning chair?" 

"I'd rather lie on the desk " Marik rolls his eyes, starting to clear the monitor and everything to one side of it. He throws his bag down at the head of the desk as a pillow, tugging out a large hoodie to curl up underneath. 

"In that case," Bakura grins, crashing into the chair and wheeling it up to the desk. "You can be my pillow," he arches his back and lays his head on Marik's ass.

"That cant be comfortable!" Marik scoffs. 

"Hmm, I disagree,"

The next morning, Yugi wakens to his twin-companion sleeping bag missing a companion. He feels for his partner, the world blurry in this dull light. Yugi needs contact lenses to see and in a world without optometrists it's even worse in this light. So, he stumbles to the front of the shop where he catches a blonde head standing outside, smoking. Thankfully the smile blows away quickly in the strong winds. "How long has it been since we could just stand outside like this?" 

Yugi nods, content with the breathe of fresh air that fills his lungs, that feeling of lost freedom being able to stand outside and breathe for once. "It feels great, Joey," 

"Jo today," Jo smiles, her grin reaching the end so of her blonde hair. 

"Sorry, Jo," Yugi frowns up at her girlfriend. "You haven't been Jo for a while. Are you okay?" 

"You're sweet to worry," she shakes her head. "But really, I feel amazing today. So much better than I have in a long time!"

"That's great!" Yugi assures, but cant help feel a little hurt inside. Had it been bothering her all this time to be a fugitive in this world? Jo honestly has no part in the magic side of the rebellion, she probably wouldn't even be here if she wasn't dating Yugi. 

"Yug, can we not just stay?" 

"What?" He blinks out of his thoughts. 

"Forget the Pharaoh and the Rebellion," Jo sighs tiredly. "We can just exist together! Zorc's manhunt of us has lifted, we can finally move freely again! Can we forget the Rebellion and just be free?" 

"Jo," Yugi takes her hand, staring up at her as the slightest trickle of morning sun makes it through the shadows, casting a gentle honey glow onto Jo's face. That warm honey is her colour. "There is no freedom in this world of Shadows. That's why we have to get the Pharaoh back!" 

"You're right," Jo scoffs and slaps herself upside the head. "Don't listen to me Yug, I don't know what I'm talking about!" She laughs. 

"Let's just go inside, okay?" 

She gives him the thumbs up and walks back in, stubbing out her cigarette on the doorframe. Yugi frowns but follows, everyone else beginning to wake up too. "My fucking back!" Bakura cries. 

"That's what you get for sleeping hunched over in a chair!" Marik yells at him, rolling off the desk, swishing onto her feet and starting to pack up his stuff. "Will your apartment be okay?" 

"It'll be fine," Bakura huffs. "There's nothing worth stealing in it," 

"True," Marik agrees. "When's our flight?" 

Mokuba Kaiba appears In the elevator doorway, reading a scribbled note on his hand. "Your plane will be there at 1500. It'll cost 120 bucks for 6 tickets - do you guys have the money?"

Everyone but Marik, Bakura and Jo. "Mokuba," Bakura sighs. "I'll get the money back to you I swear," 

"Bakura, it's fine. Even in this economy-" he gestures around the dilapidated HQ before slamming money into Bakura's hand. "- this still isn't a lot of money to me," 

"Thank you," Bakura says sincerely, handing the money to its respective receivers.

"Thanks Kura," Marik smiles, giving his ex partner-in-crime a small kiss on the cheek. Bakura yelps, not expecting it. His pale face can't hide being flustered as his cheek burn bright red. Marik chuckles. "What are we waiting for! We better go!" 

Travelling through Domino on public transport during daylight hours has never been safe. In this lawless world it's actively dangerous. Piling into the 12-seater bus that strolls through the streets without much of a schedule, Marik watches the other patrons. One man, hunched over as the shadows invade his souls through his body, black mist spiralling around his orifices. Did they kill him, or was he already a corpse, just sitting here ready to be devoured? He cuddles into Bakura,,hiding himself from the gruesome sight with her jacket. Nobody else seems phased. 

Bakura looks down at Marik, unable to comfort him as he doesn't know how. He stares at the corpse, realising this is the product of his entire revenge. Millennia of torture, isolation, loneliness producing this. It's not what was supposed to happen. True, nobody deserves anything, but isn't it a rule of nature not to break contracts? 

"Hobbes 3rd Rule of Nature," Bakura remembers aloud. "Then again, Hobbes was a loon so I shouldn't use his example," 

"What?" Marik looks up at him. 

"Nothing, just planning our next movements," he sighs, forcing a neutral frown to replace his inner existential crisis. How does one explain they're re-evaluating their entire thousands of years of existence, determined to obtain a future that led to their own demise and oblivion? Not easily, anyway. 

"Guys, we're here!" Tea calls, and. Jo instinctively puts a hand on her gun. They observe the run-down airport from the bus and find the small section that's actually sill running, which is just the ticket kiosk. 

"Six one-way tickets for the Cairo flight at 1500," Ryou puts the money down. The cashier places it in their unlocked drawer without even counting it. She hands them the tickets, scraps of card with a signature on it. 

"It'll be stopping in Germany first. The next round trip from Cairo is in 5 days, after that no flights come back from there for a month. Got that?"

"Yes, thank you," Ryou hands out the tickets.

"You can't have the guns drawn on the flight. Put the safety on and empty the chambers," the attendant tells them. 

"Sorry," Ryou apologises with a small smile. 

They don't get seats together. Yugi goes with Jo, Ryou with Tea because they can bond over tea, and Marik with Bakura. "Can this stupid thing even take off?" Jo winces at the control panel, inner wall ripped open to reveal flashing wires controlling the plane. "Yug, you know we might not survive this flight, right?" 

"I know," Yugi nods. "It's worth it Jo. We can get the Pharaoh back and the world back to normal!" 

"We failed once, why do you think we'll win?"

"Because I still believe in the Heart of the Cards," Yugi looks at her with determination, pulling his deck from his pocket. "And I have faith in the Pharaoh," 

"That reminds me, we have like 20 hours to kill including that stop in Germany," Jo brings out her own deck. "Want a game?" 

"Of course I do!"

Bakura furiously kicks the empty seat in front of him. "Twenty hours, Dammit!" 

"Calm down," Marik smiles. He feels more comfortable with Bakura now. It's a different feeling than in Battle City, maybe he trusts him more. "Get some sleep in a position that won't break your damn back," 

"Good idea," Bakura rolls his eyes, but Marik is right. He curls up into the corner, pulling his legs on the seat. He wishes he'd prepared for this and packed a bag. Marik sees him shiver against the wall of this shitty run-down plane. He pulls a blanket from his bag and starts putting it over Bakura. 

"I don't need your damn-"

"Take the blanket, Bakura," Marik orders without room for debate, tucking in the sides so Bakura sits there like a big burrito. "Take a nap," 

"What're you gonna do?" 

"I'll find something," Marik assures, searching his bag for anything to occupy his mind. Most of his recreational items are still at his apartment but he finds a single worn-down book crammed into the side.


	6. Chapter 6

They load up on bullets and survival equipment sold at the airport on the Germany stop. Making it back to the plane just in time, the rest of the way to Egypt is slower and the plane groans and creaks with the added weight of people and heavy equipment. Thankfully most ground to cover is land, so Jo's fear of crashing over the ocean is alleviated. As the plane descends into Egypt they hold hands, gripping each other tightly in fear. Each second anticipating certain doom from some fault. Thankfully that doesn't happen, and they land despite some heavy turbulence. 

"Bloody Hell," Ryou comments, staring around. "You weren't kidding about the shadow concentrations, Marik!" 

It's noon, but the sky is completely black. Nothing exists, no clouds or stars or sun. Everything is complete blackout darkness. Shadows surround them in luminous purple shapes, ghouls fading in and out of existence staring through their hollow eyes. Whispering sighs and screams of dying breaths. What are they saying? Bakura wonders more than anyone, feeling the guilt and fear creep back into him as soon as his feet hit the Egyptian sands.

"Fuck," he hisses, remembering his last time here, and how quickly he left after Zork took over, and the age of shadows begun. That horrible betrayal, the disappointment crippling him. Never would he get revenge, never would he attain his dream of being Pharaoh. 

"You okay?" Marik places a hand on his shoulder, pretending not to see the tears sparkling in Bakura's eyes. He feels such a close intimacy with Bakura, but now isn't the time to bond. 

"I'm fine," he stands tall, cocking his rifle. "How do we reach the pyramids?" 

"How do we even find them?" Marik groans. He has a point. The only lights are the few still working streetlamps, candles and lit torches carried by people employed to light the streets. In the desert there is nothing. No light, it's simply a blank void. "I mean, since the shadows took over, nobody goes into the desert unless they have a death wish,"

Ryou opens one of his occult books, using a flashlight to scour through the pages. "I can create light, candles that won't burn out, and powerful ones. But I need some time. We have 5 days until the next flight. Marik, can we make it to the pyramids by then if we spend the night here?" 

"Yes," Marik nods. "And I know where we can go,"

They carry torches through the streets, passing abandoned cars frozen in time and once grand buildings reduced to ash and rubble. Beggars line the streets, small children scurrying up to them. Of course, they're trained to approach anyone with a large haul of equipment. "Hey Mr! Can you spare some equipment?" The kid asks Bakura, looking up through dark velvety hair. "Anything helps!" 

Bakura stares at him, transfixed. His golden eyes shine brighter than any torch. That gold... it's so beautiful yet sickening. Chills creeping yo his body along with visions of fire, flames licking at his skin. "Wh-What's your name?" He asks. 

"My name? My name is Aigami," the kid blinks. 

"You're rom Karu Eruna, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, I am!" 

He grits his teeth, frozen in abject fear. Karu Eruna is the name of Kul Elna having been remodelled from a derelict village millennia ago, to a modern town now. This was thinks to its favourable location for water and access to other cities, which was the reason the original village was built by thieves on that settlement. However, the difference is the people who built Karu Eruna were descendants of the Pharaoh's people, the ones who killed his family and ruined his life. Those who caused his pain. 

"G-Get out of here...." he shudders, speaking lowly. 

"Bakura..." Ryou warns, stepping forward. Bakura cocks his glock and points it in the child's face. 

"Get out of here before I kill you!" He screams, and Aigami cries, scraping against the ground to run from Bakura. Only when he's out of eyesight does Bakura lower his gun. He turns, looking at the ground but feeling the eyes of other on him, just shocked. Not knowing how to react. That's what pisses him off the most. 

They should react badly. They should hate him and hold him responsible for what he just did. But they're just stuck, torn between sympathy and anger all repressed together. That makes him so fucking angry. "Where was it we were going again, Marik?" 

Marik snaps from his somnambulant daze. "Uh, yeah. Follow me," 

Eventually, in the low light they reach an apartment building that's actually quite affluent. "My siblings and I managed to save most of our things once the shadows took over, since we were underground," he explains as they climbs the staircases. "So we can trade them and afford to rent one of the more affluent places here," 'Affluent' in this world describes the places with least damage, or the most comforts, the maximum wealth a person can have in this world where light is precious and your history means nothing. 

They stop at a doorway, one arms with heavy locks, only able to be unlocked and opened from the inside. The door opens and Ishizu grips Marik in her arms. "My brother, you've come back to us!" he greets him in Arabic, before noticing the rest. "And you brought friends," 

"Sister, I'm only here to help them. But it's good to see you - I've missed you," he smiled at her, and despite her disappointment she smiles back. All she wants is her little brother back, but she's happy he's found people. Reconnected with those from Battle City. She sees Ryou, and then Bakura. 

"Marik," she whispers. "Is everything alright?" 

"Bakura is my... friend. It's alright, Sister," he assures, and reluctantly she trusts him. After accepting them into the small apartment and Yugi explains everything, Odion's instincts as a host take over and within seconds they're sitting on thick, hand-woven rugs on the wide floor as Odion fills the home with the wonderful smell of home cooking from the stove. 

"We really appreciate this, guys," Jo gives them the thumbs-up. "I wish we could repay you somehow," 

"Nonsense," Ishizu dismisses as Odion hands out bowls of steamed soup flavoured with root vegetable and sweetened with stale sugar. "Now, what is your plan to revive the pharaoh?" 

"Actually," Ryou smiled softly at them. "I'd like your expert opinion if you don't mind. I need to make a permanent light source we can carry with us into the desert, one that can light the way and guide us, like a star to navigate. But I'm having trouble reading the ancient texts..." 

Marik watches Ryou and Ishizu delve into their knowledge of the Ancient Magic, leaning into Bakura's chest. "Come to my room, something tells me this will take all night," 

Bakura takes his equipment to Marik's small bedroom. As expected, his stuff has been traded out since he went to Domino. They set up blankets and rugs on the floor, lighting a small fire on the stone windowsill, smoke leaving the room through the window but the heat trapped in by light mesh curtains. "How are you feeling?" Marik suddenly asks, placing down his food.

"What about?" 

"Well, you've been on edge since your deal with Zork. Are you sure this is what you want?" 

"What I want doesn't matter," Bakura shakes his head. "This is the right thing. I need to know what I'm doing will help - this is my responsibility even if I didn't mean it. What happens to me is irrelevant," 

"When did you get so righteous?" Marik grins. "You're not like how I remember you at all," 

"Who you remember isn't me. You remember a version of me warped by millennia of hate and under Zork's control. This is the real me, are you disappointed?" Bakura asks, eyes sparkling with uncertainty, mouth pulled tight.

Slowly, tenderly Marik closes the gap between them, leaning forward and kissing Bakura's cheek. His lips are rough but the kiss is chaste and light, their hair brushing together softly. "I could never be disappointed with who you are, Bakura. I just wish I'd known you sooner,"


	7. 7

The night passes slowly, and just as Ryou and Ishizu finish their ritual, a grotesque screeching can be heard from outside. This followed by an explosion, waking the entire apartment as dust clouds fill the air and wind whips around the buildings. "What the Hell?!" Bakura demands, throwing his jeans back on and standing up. Marik stares into space for a second, quickly scrambling to his feet, gripping his most powerful AR. 

"They're attacking," Marik states gravely, standing to full height. "Bakura, gather all your arsenal and crouch at the window," 

"What the Hell is going on, Marik?!" He demands as Marik frantically rushes around, packing everything. Bakura follows suit, despite being absolutely confused. Somewhere in the distance, the town alarm sounds. 

"They're Monsters!" Marik explains. "Someone's playing a shadow game, it's awoken the monsters!" 

"You have Monsters here?!" Bakura asks, but he already knows the answer. Of course they do, this is where the shadow magic is most concentrated. Yugi bursts into the room with Jo, Duel disks poised on their arms. 

"Come on!" He urges. "We have to get to the desert before this city becomes a disaster zone!" 

"We'll be sitting ducks in the desert!" Marik objects. 

"Not if we can 'elp it!" Jo brandished her duel disk like a weapon, Red Eyes Black Dragon poised between her fingers and ready to summon. 

"Works for me," Bakura decides, grabbing Marik's hand and following them outside and into the street. Overhead, Monsters of all kinds fly, dragons shooting bursts of fire into buildings, reducing them to patches of dust. Giant stone structures walk, sentient as any creature as they flatten to town with crushing stomps. A small dragon spots them, screeches and swoops down to attack. 

"Run!" Bakura calls, and as they run away in the direction of the desert, he mounts his own Duel Disk, drawing. Perfect. "I summon Dark Necrofear!" 

From a dark, looming portal overhead emerges the sword-wielding demon. "Dark Necrofear, attack!" 

The demon swoops down her spear and the dragon is impaled. "Wait, they die realistically?!" Bakura gasps, watching blood spurt from the wound. The dragon roars in agony, such a painful sight. It fills him with guilt, destroying this creature that actually has a life as it tumbles to the ground, crushing a structure anyway. 

As they run, Yugi summons Celtic Guardian. "Celtic Guardian, hold them off!" The knight brandishes his sword and swings before the dragons, halting them as they roar at him. Dark Necrofear returns to Bakura's side, hovering with him. 

They continue to hold off the monsters as they run through the desert, Jo, Yugi and Bakura with their decks and Marik, Tea and Ryou with pure firepower. They shoot to scare and to wound and thankfully, there're no more fatalities. Once they reach a secluded, open area and the monsters screams only sound in the distance, Bakura returns Dark Necrofear to his deck.

"Dammit," he hisses furiously, kicking up some sand, which just feels redundant as it rains down before him. Marik watches him, realising how bad he must feel. Like him, after Battle City. He may have improved and reconciled with his family and new friends, but he still felt to blame. He knew how much suffering he'd caused. 

"Nobody blames you, Bakura," he says lowly, sincerely, and places a comforting hand on Bakura's shoulder. Suddenly Bakura slaps him away, hard. Leaving an angry red mark and a dying on his wrist. 

"That's the problem!" Bakura growls loudly, and everyone stares at him. "I deserve to be blamed! It's my fault! It's..." tears flow freely down his face, and exhaustion crash's over him. He falls to his knees, gripping his sides and wailing loudly. Nobody moves, nobody knows what to do. Yugi is the most helpful one, and great at comforting people but hr doesn't know the first thing about Bakura! As for Ryou, he wants to help but hesitates because on some level, he agrees. He agrees that Bakura is to blame for what happened, and deserves his karmatic pain. 

Marik steps forward and draw Bakura in quickly, squeezing him close in a tight hug. he crying ceases, and his body falls limp in Marik's arms as his head whirls in a typhoon of overlapping feelings and questions. "Pull yourself together, Bakura," Marik urges, his own voice catching in his throat. He doesn't wan to cry, he's no use to anyone if he cries. "You're fixing it, whatever you did, you're fixing it by helping us. By your sacrifice..." 

"Sacrifice?" Jo wonders aloud, and Ryou exchanges a weary glance with Ishizu. 

"Okay," Bakura exhales deeply, wiping tears from his eyes, red and raw from crying. "Ra, I'm so embarrassing, shit-" 

Jo wraps her arm around Bakura's shoulders and gives him one of her signature grins. "Hey, c'mon pal. Nobody blames ya. Now let's go, we gotta make headway towards the pyramids!" 

"Yeah, you're right," Marik agrees, helping Bakura to his feet, who reluctantly lets him. They start walking and ahead, Yugi slips his hand into his girlfriend's, interlocking their fingers. Marik smiles at Bakura, feeling his way down from his shoulder to his hand, gripping it. Their fingers don't interlock, but Bakura settles nicely into holding his hand. The touch is warm, and gentle, and pleasant as their arms sway slightly in the wind. It reminds him of something he never knew he craves. 

He remembers Battle City, that intimate connection of sharing a body with someone. A closeness he hadn't had in millennia. Yes, he also shares Ryou's body but that wasn't the same, not when the person was resisting him, when he never sought a connection with them other than causing them pain. And he remembers that one time, inside Ryou's mind when he and Marik argued. 

* 

"Tch, why do you have to be so impatient?!" Marik demands, standing in the void, the blue-green faded abyss of the millennium ring. So this is where Bakura spent the past few millennia? How dreadfully boring. "We can defeat him and once I regain control of my body, the Millennium Rod will be yours!" 

"Well Marik," Bakura growls, turned away, unable to look at the Egyptian man without feeling pissed. "If you recall, I signed up for teaming up with you, in your body. I should have the Rod by now, and wouldn't if you weren't so damn weak-willed!" 

"Weak-willed?!" Marik glowers at the incredulous demand, the darkness within still brooding even as he is separated from its entity. He has his own darkness, his own evil that belongs to him, not that fucking Rod. "How dare you! Take that back you pathetic thief!" 

"Hm," a smirk plays on Bakura's lips. "How about no?" 

Marik grabs his hair and slams him to the ground. He grabs his bottom lips with his teeth, teeth tearing the skin and kissing him - rough and merciless. Bakura feels the electric touch of another person, one he hasn't felt in thousands of years and he moans in pleasure, becoming insanely aroused by just a kiss. Fuck! His body succumbed to the cravings of pleasure and intimacy he's been starved of. This feels even better than he thought, even better than what he fantasises about wacking off in control of Ryou's body. 

He willingly spreads his legs when Marik rolls his hips against Bakura's crotch. He's about to reach for the button on Marik's pants, but the man pulls away at the very last second. Bakura watches in acute trepidation as Marik stands, fixing his hair and smiling evilly down at Bakura with satisfaction. "Which one of us is weak-willed, bitch?" 

He won't let himself cry, he can't. "M-Marik please, just..." 

The aforementioned finds this delightfully amusing. "Oh? Please what? Marik, please fuck me into the ground? Go ahead, fucking beg," 

* 

Bakura remembers that with a shudder, gripping Marik's hand tighter, afraid he'll slip away again, this time forever. He won't let him. "Marik, before we get... attached to one another, there's something I have to tell you," 

"What is it?" Marik asks quietly, ensuring none of the others can hear.

"I want you to know, that I'm not the same person I was in Battle City," Bakura explains. "I have new memories, and I regained my old memories from Ancient Egypt. And I'm no longer under control of Zork. What I'm saying is, if you think you like me now just because you liked me then, that isn't true," 

"I-" Marik clamps his mouth shut. He doesn't know what to say to that, he can't even refute it. He was surprised at how different Bakura acted when they met again, and this just confirms it. He isn't the same person. 

What the Hell is he meant to do with that information?! 

They lose count of the hours they walk, fixating on the shapes in the distance they can't only pray are pyramids. They don't even know what direction they're going otherwise, the town long out of sight. Ryou finally gets the lights working, but they don't stretch farther than a few dozen metres. "That's it, we're gonna die out here," 

"Hey, it's okay Jo," Tea assures. 

"Joey," Joey corrects her. 

"Sorry, Joey," she nods sympathetically. "But it is okay. We have Ishizu and Ryou, and Marik. And each other. We won't die, we'll find something soon," 

"Way ta comfort me," he rolls his eyes. 

Even if we find the pyramids, we likely won't survive beyond that. Marik thinks to himself, eyes landing on each person oblivious to the horrors that await them once they reach the tombs. 

"Even if we do find them, which we probably fucking won't," Bakura scoffs. "Zork defeated the Pharaoh once, killed him off for good. This time he'll take all of us with him,"

"That's if we lose," Ryou reminds quickly, not wanting him to scare Joey anymore. "And besides, last time we didn't know what to expect. And last time Zork had a weapon, or did you just forget your time as his puppet?" 

Ryou glares at Bakura, who glowers back at him. "Is there something we need to talk about?" He growls in a low voice. 

"Hey everyone!" Yūgi calls from up ahead. "I see something!"

And all their attentions are called to the looking structure ahead.


	8. 8

So I'm reading Metro 2033 right now and plan on finishing the series, because honestly it's amazing. I've fell in love with the post-apocalyptic world arc in anything, from books to movies to documentaries. Plus, we need some LGBT rep. in the sci-fi genre. Hope you enjoy!   
They reach the foot of the pyramid, peering down at the depths of tomb below. "Pharaoh Atemu, 18th dynasty. We're here," Ishizu gulps, nodding slightly as a sign of respect, having never escaped the constraints of her position as a servant of the pharaoh. Her collarbones itch, body sensing the close presence of the Millennium Necklace. "We don't have much time to waste, the shadows are more dangerous than normal here,"   
"I agree, bow do we find the buried tomb?" Odion asks around, looking specifically at Ryou and Yugi. The former is well versed in the occult, and in archeology. He steps forward with an answer, while Bakura simply crouches by the rock, wiping away layers of sand from a large stone slab.   
"There we go, I just need to chant this,"   
Ryou frowns, kneeling by him and shining a light on the words. They aren't hieroglyph, having been carved into the stone with some crude tool, eloping off to the side. "Thee don't look like any ancient writings," he sighs. "They certainly aren't the language you spoke,"   
"Speak for yourself," Bakura snorts deeply. "Like most peasants at the time, I couldn't read or write hieroglyphs - ir at all really. This is the symbol pattern I used to exchange messages between my followers and here before I infiltrated, I left instructions on entering the tomb,"   
"That's brilliant!" Marik gasps, happily patting Bakura on the back. His eyes sparkle with excitement, and it makes Bakura smile and for a moment, allows him to forget the fate if darkness he is doomed to. "A clever move, what does it say?"   
"That's disgraceful," Ishizu mutters to herself, Ryou in agreement. You'd think they'd have focused slightly more on Bakura graverobbing the Pharaoh, stealing his riches and sarcophagus, and raging shadow battles in sacred temples. No, the graffiti is the major crime Bakura committed here. "But can it help us revive the pharaoh?"   
"Yeah, 'course it can," Joey stares uncomprehendingly at the writing. "Uh - right Yug?"   
Yugi fixates on the letters, pursing his lips. His body shakes slightly, gaze quivering and fluctuating between the present and the past. He is once again sinking in that river of blood, clutching the fading and dying magic of Atem. Yami, really, for that is who he grieves for. He watches those amethyst eyes disappear before him as his best friend falls into the pits of defeat, torn apart before him by shadows. He remembers how right Joey was in the plane.   
They shouldn't have come here.   
He has been trying to avoid this and in a way, living in an apocalypse helped him. If the pharaoh had miraculously defeated Zork and been accepted into the afterlife, he would have had to deal with grieve. His stupid overthinking brain twisting the normal process of grieving into long, arduous work. He almost bursts into remorseful tears at his selfish that is, that he could ever be happy his partner died horribly, and is how condemned to a life of torture in the Shadow Realm. Not the one that plagues what used to be Earth, but the other one Bakura warped into.   
"Right, Joey!" Yugi assures firmly, strain evident in his eyes, This is his job, this is who he is. He reassures his boyfriend, his friends that everything will be okay. Because without hope they have nothing. This used to Yami's job, and its so difficult being left alone to do this, He misses Yami so much, but at least the apocalypse forced him to come to terms with his death. Now? Everything is uncertain, and it isn't fucking fair! He didn't think he's ever have to deal with this, and now it's all coming back in a torrent of unresolved PTSD.   
Bakura reads his chickenscratch and nods affirmatively, leading he consumed group into the pyramid and around a series of deep corridors. They're wide, covered floor-to ceiling in hieroglyph, but also in layers of blood. The smell is trapped, a stench so foul Ryou throws up, and Joey pulls his shirt over his nose. So much blood, piled up over centuries of dark magic and torture to a wading, knee-high pool. Marik winces, feeling himself step in something squishy.   
As they walk through the blood, a lilac shadow forms before them, swirling into the centre and turning to gold. Bakura grasps Marik's hand in an instant. "We don't have much time, the gateway is closing!" he screams in frustration, having not expected this. The gateway must be activated by their presence, and it shuts down their only route to the past. He drags Marik forward stumbling and falling through the blood as the hole becomes smaller, thinner.   
"Bet you're regretting those fucking protein shakes now, Ishtar!" Bakura growls, gripping Marik by the hood and throwing him into the closing void, grasping him by the ankle so he's also dragged through before it seal forever. The portal closes behind him, and an unseen force thrusts them forward.   
There's no more blood, and the stone looks fresh, shimmering in gold. "Where are we?" Marik questions in a low whisper, seeing the floor below him shining golden, the smell of rotting corpses replaced by that of sand and crisp air.   
"Haven't you been paying attention to shit? We're back in Ancient Egypt,"   
What does he mean back?! Marik's never been here! He looks back at the stairwell behind them and the gateway has disappeared. "Where's Yugi and the others?"   
"Fuck if I know," Bakura shrugs, turning and sauntering downstairs, descending to the previous pharaoh's tomb. "Now let's find my previous self, I have a bone to pick with that fucker,"  
Bakura descends into the darker passageways of the Pharaoh's tomb, remembering the route he planned so many years ago. Up ahead, golden candlelight streams from a room hidden around a corner from which deep, grumbling laughter rings. Marik hears someone speak in Ancient Egyptian from the room, and clings to Bakura from behind, hovering his hand near his gun. "Scared, Ishtar?" Bakura asks, his voice different, and he's speaking Ancient Egyptian, a language Marik thankfully knows from years of studying as a Tomb Keeper. He doesn't answer, trusting Bakrua to lead him into the room.   
That trust s shattered when he feels a knife pressing against his throat. "Who the fuck are you?" a voice, in Ancient Egyptian and so foreign, so different than Bakura's. Marik shudders in the arms of this stranger, looking over at Bakura who quickly draws his gun, pointing it at the assailant's head.   
"Let him go," Bakura growls in Ancient Egyptian, in a voice Marik recognises as that of his attacker. It only just dawns on him, too late to be comfortable with, that he's being held hostage by Balkura's previous self.   
Meanwhile.   
Yūgi, Tea, Ryou, the Ishtar siblings and Joey stumble forward, the portal and darkness disappearing before them. Instead, they fall onto asphalt. Clambering into their hands and knees, they look ahead, blinded by the clear blue sky. After not seeing sunlight for many years, their eyes burn and corneas are scratched, making their eyes water like they're crying. The sun feels warm on their skin and the air is now clear. No shadows in sight. "Where are we?" Ryou asks.   
"G-Guys..." Joey's hand quivers, pointing to a small Asian shop with fresh fruits outside. The calendar hanging down says it's the year of the Horse.   
"That means it's 2014!" Ryou gasps. This is Domino City 4 years ago, when they were 16 and the shadows hadn't yet arrived. This is pre-apocalypse.   
From the little shop they buy cheap sunglasses to shield themselves from the glare, and conceal their (now illegal) weapons as well as they can under their heavy quilt clothing, making them sweat in this heat. "We have to find out how we got here," Tea reminds worriedly, feeling the stares of passers by at their dirty, stained attire more suited for a winter in Stalin's Russia than summer in Domino City.   
"Never mind dat," Joey shakes his head. "We gotta get outta this stuff and look normal again, otherwise shit might go down! And I don't wanna mess with the past,"  
"You're right," Yūgi agreed, squeezing his boyfriend's hand. Then he remembers, this is before they were even dating. Before Joey even came out as genderfluid and everyone just thought he was cis and heteroflexible.   
"Well I still have the key to my old apartment," Tea pulls it from a strong around her neck, the slightly rusty and dented key dangling in her hand. It will still work. "And it isn't too far. C'mon,"   
Thankfully the Tea of this time isn't home. It's a weekday morning - she'll still be at school. Having a real, warm shower for the first time in 4 years is exhilarating, and Ryou watches the dirt pool around the plug hole, especially as he washes his matted hair. In the end, he just cuts most of it off. The hot water is strange on his skin, a tingling feeling that leaves it red and tender. What a weird and foreign feeling this is, he thinks as he grooms himself with one of Tea's expensive pink razors, shaving off long white hair that's grown all over his body.   
Even Joey chops off his long hair, that previously knotted all the way down his back, heavy and wet with dirt. What's left he washes and brushes into place. Yūgi doesn't do much with his own hair, which he kept short for the apocalypse. He washes it before spiking it up, which he hasn't been able to do in years - feeling the slick gel between his fingers gives him a kind of longing nostalgia as he looks in the mirror and applies it to his hair, feeling like a younger version of himself.   
It takes a few moments, but for the first time in years they're bored. There's no threat, no alertness for danger. They revert back to their initial mentality and... they realise something. All the people who died, who they lost when he Shadows came are still alive. And they can see them again. Serenity, Joey's mother, Tea's parents, Tristan. Joey shivers. Tristan.   
"I-I have to go..." he mutters.   
"Me too," Yugi nods. If they're all alive then his previous self is too, that means Yami is here and he can help them. Wait, Yugi stops himself. What a horrible thing to think. To use him like that, why isn't he thinking of him like a grieving friend? He wonders if he's really that fucked up. But there no time, he needs all the help he can get in his own time! This wouldn't even be an issue if he'd made it through with Bakura. How could he hesitate like that?  
"We'll meet at the Square in 2 hours, if anyone gets info WhatsApp it to the rest of us," he decides. "Go do what you need to do,"  
Yugi himself starts towards Domino High School where he assumes his past self to be. The sun beating down on him is blinding and his skin prickles with discomfort. He hasn't felt the sun on his body in years and something he's missed so much if dreadfully uncomfortable. It's nice to see plants bloom though, blossoms standing by the roadsides in this spring afternoon. He barely remembered how this world looked, had forced himself to forget it. As swell as forget Yami.   
Each step forward feels like a death sentence, getting sadder and sadder as memories flash in his mind. This wasn't meant to happen, he was meant to forget these forever, let himself move on and flourish in the new world created from the Pharaoh's death. "I'm too weak for that," he sighs, but is thankfully distracted as he rehearses what to say to his former self and Yami to explain this entire mess that he doesn't even understand.


	9. 9

Thief King Bakura freezes against Marik, recognising the man beside him. "What is this?!" He demands, the voice of Zork underlying his pitch to a rough growl like a puppet master distorting his voice to fit the character. Zork is in control. Thief King Bakura removes the knife, throwing Marik who tumbles forward. "Why the Hell are you doing here?! Who are you, a trick by the Pharaoh?!" 

Bakura narrows his eyes, remembering this. Remembering how he sat on the border between this world and the next, in the throne overlooking the mass game board of Ancient Egypt, everyone his pawn. And sitting across from him, the Pharaoh. "I'm you, you dick," Bakura sneers. That self is in control reasoning with the Thief King isn't going to accomplish anything. Doesn't mean he can't try. "And I'm here to tell you to quit this insane tirade of yours before you ruin everything!" 

"What are you talking about?" He growls back, drawing his knife and ready to attack again. He lunges for Bakura with an uncertain cry, stopped suddenly as Marik slams into him. Marik's elbow crushes into his ribs and sends him flying back into a wall. He clutches his bare chest, bruising pain radiating through his back. 

"Listen to him," Marik orders darkly, stepping aside to let Bakura explain. 

"You're being manipulated by Zork," he states with grave sincerity. "You think this grand revenge will make you Pharaoh? Don't be naive. Zork will open a world of Shadows in which you are a mere vagrant, he'll toss you to the side and forget about you lest he need a pawn for his sick game," 

Bakura glares, realising how similar it sounds to him speaking about himself. Honestly, he doesn't remember which parts of him were Zork and what was actually him. What parts of himself he lost when they separated and he lost his old body. No, when he died. Because he did die the day the Shadows came, feeling the absolute nothingness as light left his eyes. It shakes him to the core even now, turning his pale face paler. 

Marik watches him closely. Having died before, been reduced to mere essence trapped in the Shadow Realm and having his body slowly engorged into the Winged Dragon of Ra, he knows what Bakura feels. He knows that fear of non-existence that comes only from experiencing it first hand, and only those who have died understand. "Believe him," Marik assures, earning a thankful look from Bakura. "At least hear what we have to say," 

"Fine," Thief King Bakura agrees, sitting on the sarcophagus of the former Pharaoh. His legs spread as he does, his short blue robe revealing something very intimate to Marik. He'a always knew Bakura had a small dick. "Tell me what you need to, not like I have much choice," 

So they explain, Bakura more than Marik as he was actually there when Zork defeated the Pharaoh. 

"You won, and the Pharaoh lost his body. He died, falling into the Shadows. You were so happy - I was so happy, until I realised Zork's intentions. He was never going to make you Pharaoh, he was using you. And you, I... died as well," Bakura states with glassy eyes into the void, past the wall before him and into a time of agony. His body finally gives out, maybe under the weight of his equipment as life drains from his spirit. 

"Bakura!" Marik holds him, holds him close. Thief King Bakura considers everything, there's no way his future self is lying. He knows himself and he knows his own lies. So Zork betrayed him?

Don't listen to them! The voice growls in his head. He tries to block it out, but it keeps encroaching on his thoughts, creeping into his consciousness.

"Shut up," he orders Zork in his head. "Leave me alone, I don't need you for my revenge!" He grips the knife tightly. "I don't need you, I'll just kill the Pharaoh myself!" 

"Yes!" Bakura agrees happily, before Thief King Bakura wrenches back, grilling his hair in incredible pain. His eyes flash purple and Bakura realises Zork has taken over completely. Entirely consumed his former body, there's nothing left of himself. 

"Bakura, when I agreed to our deal I did not foresee this," Zork grins crookedly, approaching with shuffling, disordered steps. "You have become a nuisance. I no longer need you for my plan, just your body-" 

Bakura stares at the warped version of himself in shock. It just keeps advancing, the knife ready, a void of Shadow magic appearing in his other hand. Finally, he's dying for real. Escaping the burden of thousands of years of consciousness. Maybe it won't be so bad this time, when his entire mind is snuffed out and not merely reduced to drifting embers. But with a deafening sound and light mist of blood raining red before his eyes, his former body slumps to the ground. A fading purple spirit rises from the desecrated body. 

Bakura gulps. "You fucking shot me," 

"That wasn't you," Marik kneels down, offering him a hand up. The barrel of his gun smokes with the recent shot. Taking Marik's hand he lets the other man pull him up, both gazing over at the body in the corner, smoking bullet hole torn through its chest. "Your dick is bigger in this body," 

"How-?" Bakura shakes his head. "Never mind. Thank you, Marik. Hopefully we can both move on from this when it's all over," 

From the distance they hear the pounding of heavy boots and encoring shouts. The Pharaoh's guards. "They must have heard my shot," Marik frowns, quickly holstering his gun and grabbing Bakura's hand. He drags him out the room. "You still remember these tunnels right?" 

"Yeah," Bakura agrees, though he feels his past life memories fading away already. 

"C'mon then, before they see us!" 

* 

Yūgi stares at his past self, blinking. The room is silent, an empty classroom in the older halls of the school. Neither knows what to say until Yami forces his way from Yugi's mind, taking over his body and assuming his confrontational glare. "What is this and who are you?" 

Yūgi explains rapidly, just on autopilot.  Unable to take his eyes off Yami yet equally unable to process his existence. It would have been easier if Yami never existed at all, if he didn't have to remember his own grief. He's done such a good job avoiding it until now. He ends his story and Yami still looks sceptical. He wears a familiar poker face, not giving anything away. Yūgi knows he's still considered an enemy and threat. At least he can focus on the hurt from that, and not his overwhelming urge to cry in sorrowful joy that Yami is alive. 

"So what now?" Yami asks, crossing his arms. "I assume you have a plan?" 

"Well..." Yūgi shifts his feet awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I hoped you'd have an answer. Know what to do..." this was a waste of time, he's put himself through this for nothing. Then Yami steps forward, a look of determination on his face. It's a face Yugi remembers so vividly that it silently haunted him for months after The Pharaoh died, one that always assured him whatever the danger was, that Yami was capable of fixing it. It's subsequently the face that betrayed them when Yami finally fell. 

"If what you say is true, then yes I do have a plan. Gather your friends here," 

* 

Ryou stares at his weapon, the pistol he looted right after the apocalypse. He passes it around his hands, feeling no real attachment to the gun, but considering it a natural part to himself. In the Domino High girls' uniform he wanders around this shady alley of downtown NYC, finally reaching the pawn shop his father often had shady dealing with. He remembers being a very young child, cowering behind his father as he pawned whatever artefacts he looted from Egypt but wasn't allowed to keep. He hated that law, that he couldn't keep anything he found on his missions, so he would steal artefacts and pawn them for what he called 'due compensation' for the risky work he was involved in. Similarly, Mr Bakura would buy goods from traders in small marketplaces for pennies from people who didn't know what they had and sell it for thousands online. 

The bell above the door clanks and a rugged man who looks like he just woke up struts through from the back room. "What're you doin' here girly? You lost?" the man looks closer at Ryou, seeing his white hair and eyes. "Hot shit, ain't you Bakura's kid? Didn' he have a son?" 

"Just me," Ryou shrugs with a small smile, eyes wide with discomfort and terror. 

"I ain't seen him in five years, at least. Where is the old grouch?" 

"He uh, moved away," Ryou gives him a watery smile, feeling the anxiety build in his chest. He's never been so scared in years, not when tearing apart shadows, performing rituals or even killing people - and he's killed many innocent people since the Shadows came. But now he's back in the past, he's acting like the frightened little boy he used to be, that's what scares him most. "But I have this, if you can give me a good price," 

He places the gun gently on the glass counter, which the owner stares at lustfully, whistling as he examines the piece. "Wow, this is a real impressive piece! Where'd you get somethin' like this, lil missy?" 

"My father..." he lies quietly, playing his part and leaning into his old personality to fool the owner. The man grins and rifles through his drawers. He hands Ryou a $100 bill. 

"This gun is worth much more than this!" Ryou squeaks, voice cracking. 

"Yeah, an' if you brought in a permit with the serial number intact, I could have given ya much more," the man growls. "Now I gotta get a forged licence and permit, and a serial number grafted. It ain't worth it to me to pay all that shit for the profit I'll make and still pay you more. Take it or leave it," 

With a disappointed huff, Ryou takes it. "One more thing, don't you know anywhere I can get some books?" 

The man looks around suspiciously before leaning in. "Anything specific in mind?" 

"Occult, dark magic specifically from Ancient Egypt around the 18th dynasty," 

Them owner frowns, scratching his head in thought. "Uh, your father usually brought us stuff that specific. Okay, I got a guy I an call, you just wait right here," Ryou smiles as he saunters into the back. 

The guy doesn't take long to show up, who's dressed in an expensive suit and carrying a special briefcase, air-tight and temperature controlled with a wiring system through the fabric to seal out oxygen from the manuscripts. The apocalypse taught Ryou that these books actually don't need this many precautions and can be preserved in less difficult ways, albeit the books' condition will suffer. He has what Ryou is looking for, an old manuscript about how the Shadow Games were used to revive the dead, and how to access the hidden magic without using the items. Every magic item has a safeguard, remember that. It'll come in handy someday. "How much for just this book?" he asks. 

"Hm, how much you got?" the man asks in a sultry voice, its sound uncomfortable like creeping insects crawling under Ryou's skin. 

"A hundred," Ryou hands out the bill. Honestly, he knows how valuable a book about the unnamed pharaoh would really be, and how many millions he's ripping the guy off by. But black market sellers, especially when it's something so niche can rarely haggle above pennies. The point is to sell these books in mass quantities to shady pawn shops and antique dealers who act as the middle man for private clients. Ryou would have a much harder time if he was dealing with one of them. The man accepts, Ryou pockets the unprotected artefact and leaves the shop hastily. 

His destination brings back memories before he sees it. Walking distance from Domino High, the street is full of luxury high-rise apartments He finds his old one on a high floor, remembering where he kept the key - under the ceramic frog - when he attended the school and walks inside. He knows he won't be home, his past self would never think of skipping school. He remembers this minimalist apartment for what it was, an entire manifestation of the emptiness in his life. When he had no friends, no support through the identity crisis of the millennium ring and Bakura. He remembers the pain, standing in that bathroom with blooded knuckles as the Ring seeped below his skin, fusing to his very core, spikes embedded in his bones. 

He slides the book under his bed, where he used to keep the rest of his occult things, a crucial step in the future revival of Bakura. "I'm glad the Grandfather Paradox isn't real," he considers, snickering darkly at his own joke. He gets a WhatsApp from Yugi, a simple urgency message, and wanders from his old apartment, disassociating from this place. The old Ryou? A stranger to him now, and this apartment as foreign as before he moved in. 

Meanwhile, Jo wanders through the Halls of Domino High, not even remembering when she changed. Maybe the feeling of being carefree, seizing the moment of opportunity to be herself in a world where she can actually embrace it. This shirt is weird, it makes her look like a box. Her narrow waist and flat stomach, the way it accentuates her hips really helps her dysphoria and when she's Jo she wants to show it off as much as possible - this shirt doesn't let her do that. She needs something slender and fitted, like the uniforms of the girls who pass her in the hallway. Maybe she could sneak some from lost and found? "Wheeler!" comes a gruff voice form behind her, and she freezes, realising she doesn't even look like her old self. She was 16 in this time period and now she's 21. Her voice is deeper, her lanky body has grown into itself and she's less lithe, broader from the wears of the apocalypse. She gulps and turns, grinning at the coach she remembers giving her a hard time in school. 

"Ey, saaarry man," she uses her old Brooklyn accent, one that has since dissipated in the Age of Shadows. "I think ye got the wrang person. Joey Wheela is my younga brotha - dis is Domino High right? Am lookin' for 'im," 

"Oh, sorry," the prideful man apologises, the tips of his ears turning red in shame. "I mistook you for him and thought he was cutting class," the coach wander ahead, looking for tardy stragglers slacking behind after the warning bell. Jo sighs in relief and wanders the halls having forgotten where her old homeroom was. 

She finds it, but quickly disappears from sight of the doorway, hiding by the balcony pillar and watching. There's her past self, that idiot tough guy with no semblance of self and even less self-esteem. She's kinda disappointed in how she used to be, not because she dislikes her old personality but how easily her confidence shattered, and her pride confined her to proving herself in any challenge no matter how audacious. Fuck, she was a pain in the ass at 16. 

Who she really focuses on is Tristan. Her best friend and such a tragic loss when the Shadows came. Jo actually dealt with her grief well when it happened, her raw emotion easily expressed once the nihilistic realisation set in, that how other people see her doesn't mean shit. She never bottled up her anger of sadness and managed to move on well. But this? It threatens to send her spiralling back to that very dark place, like losing her best friend all over again. 

She looks back at Tristan, who smiles determinedly at Yugi, talking with animation about something and probably making fun of her past self. But his heavy brown eyes seem to look over, locking with hers. It's an instant, but it terrifies her, like seeing a real-life ghost... y'know, before she started hanging out with Yugi and fighting skeletons was just par for the course. She starts to run off, sprinting down the hallway. She hears a shout from behind but doesn't acknowledge it, it could be for anyone and is probably a call for her old self anyway. 

After taking refuge crouching by the old bins, where she used to sneak cigarettes, she hears a ping form her phone and checks it. Yugi's at the soccer field, there's been a development. Good, she can channel this emotion into work, before it blows a hole through her skull.


	10. 10

Once everyone is gathered around Yami, he realises the story must be true and Yugi is really from the future. That means he loses... but maybe not, since they're fighting back in Ancient Egypt. This might not help but it also might be exactly what they need. "Thank you all for coming," he addresses the circled crowd of his best friends, but older. Wow, Yugi grows up nice, he thinks. "Alright. I have an idea. We need to find a way to get the Egyptian God cards back in time to Ancient Egypt, where Bakura and Marik can use them in the final shadow game," he still has reservations about this, mainly cause its fucking Bakura and Marik they're pinning the fate of the world on. And until half an hour ago all he knew of Bakura was the villainous Spirit of the Millennium Ring. He has barely any faith in his own plan, but he has the heart of the cards and no other options.   
"Yug'!"   
Yugi turns to see Jo, Tea and Ryou running over from the pavement outside the school grounds, squeezing through the gates. Tea stops right in her tracks, staring at Yami. A rush of emotions consume her so suddenly, her eyes glassing over with unfallen tears. "Y-Yami..." she lunges forward, grabbing Yami by the shoulders and pulling him so close, so tight. He's jerked up and speechless, unable to process that his friend he saw less than half an hour ago is now this... person.   
She's taller and older and her hair is styled differently, with a flick at the front. It's more exciting than the boring box haircut she has... had... in this time period. He smiles in soft acceptance of his friend, gently rubbing her back. "I'm glad to see you too, Tea,"   
Surprisingly, the best person to bombard him with hugs is Jo. Jo's crying openly unlike Tea, loudly and attracting stares. Jo never was one for subtlety so it's to be expected, almost knocking Yami off his feet. But Yugi is just standing there expressionless, all his feeling boxed inside. He was never like this before, did Yami's death change him so much?   
"Sorry about her," Ryou gives Yami an apologetic smile, wrenching Jo off of him.   
"Her?" Yami blinks, staring at the adult Jo dressed like a middle-aged Dad.   
"I know - this thing sucks," Jo laughs, pulling at her shirt. "It ain't me at all.   
"And Bakura... the good Bakura..."   
"Look, we'll have time for introductions later," Ryou speaks firmly, grabbing everyone's attention. "What's your plan Yami?"   
Yami explains it to all of them, about getting the God cards back to Ancient Egypt for Marik and Bakura to use against Zork. "I don't know about this," Ryou admits. "It's true the Grandfather Paradox doesn't really exist but I'm not as well versed on the laws of time travel as Bakura is. I have an idea where top begin but it's untested. It might not work,"   
"It's all we have," Yugi states in a monotone, his voice and face devoid of anything Yami remembers of the animated teen. Something is very wrong here. Yugi grasps Jo's hand, squeezing it slightly, maybe the only indication that he's worried. "Ryou, we have to try this. What do we do?"   
They converge in Ryou's old apartment, the large open floor of the sitting room big enough to accommodate all of them. Jo stretches out on the luxurious leather couch, having missed such things from her own post-apocalyptic existence. Ryou grabs a large book on religious history from his study, flicking through the thick manuscript until he finds an old legend. "Okay, these Ancient Egyptian ruins cite a time disturbance in the 18th dynasty due to the building of a heretical city under one particularly batty pharaoh. During his short reign, he rejected the presence of the Egyptian Gods and replaced the polytheistic religion with one monotheistic heretical God, leading this short period to be erased from Egyptian history by the Gods. With me?"   
"Uh..." Jo begins.   
"Yes," Ishizu promises. Ryou hands her the book in which old parchment depicts hieroglyphical of the process. It's printed into the page, blown up from small scratching on the wall of a tomb likely by a criminal buried alive. "Oh, I know this. Anthropologists did an excavation and found the city to have been build and populated entirely by child salves, then flattened once they got rid if that blasphemous pharaoh,"   
"Can you read it?" Yami asks. Ishizu frowns, looking down and concentrating.   
"Marik could better than I can. But I think I understand the general idea," she translates it onto a notepad by Ryou's landline in her neat, small handwriting. "Alright, I know how to say this now. This along with Marik's back carving should help us fulfil the prophecy of the Egyptian Gods,"  
Ryou reads over it, comparing it with his occult data and what he knows. "Okay, in order to do this we need to channel energy into Bakura and Marik's hekas so they can accept the offering of the God cards. Yami, if you will,"   
He produces the God cards form his deck, holding them against the light. Ishizu recognises the darkness of the Winged Dragon of Ra. "Right, it's afternoon unfortunately, but I've bathed and according to the laws am ritually pure," Ryou tells himself with his habit of thinking aloud. From his apocalypse backpack he procures a metal rod, a metal wand for the snake Goddess Great of magic. "Let's hope Marik or Bakura have their wands,"   
"Marik does, his ivory one," Ishizu confirms. Ivory wands with carvings were used in Ancient Egypt to summon powerful creatures and he would need it to summon the Egyptian Gods. She knows Marik has a highly powerful heka only matched by Odion and the Spirits of the Millennium Items as well as the few remaining priests, like Shadi.   
Ryou perform the incantation, chanting the strange Ancient language from the book and the one from Marik's back, spells of summoning used by only the most prestigious of magicians and priests in the Ancient times. As he does, the cards turn to squares of bright light, breaking off in shards in Yami's hands before fading away. He grabs for them but they dissolve into the air. "They're in the past now," Ryou explains. "Now the future of our world is dependant on Marik and Bakura,"   
*  
Bakura squeezes the trigger with such force his finger begins to bend and break. Bullets spray from the gun into the groups of Ancient soldiers who block the hallway. The guards found them of course and now pursue with such determination even the rainstorm of bullets forcing gaping holes in their fallen comrades do nothing. One soldier throws a spear and Marik notices it heading straight for Bakura. He shoves Bakura out the way, feeling the spear rip through his side. Blood spurts from the wound and he staggers, hissing air through his gritted teeth at the pain.   
Bakura fire two shots back into the darkness, dragging Marik through the tunnels until they turn a corner. Marik flops to the stone floor, crying and groaning. He sweats as the energy seems to drain from his body and his vision clouds. The light spots from torches lining the walls fade darker by the second. "Bakura..." he groans, feeling Bakura grip his hand tightly as he presses fabric against the wound. "Can I tell you something?"   
"No Marik," he hears a deep growl. "You aren't telling me shit because you're going to be fine and you can tell me once we've beaten Zork. Understood?"   
"Yeah...okay..." his voice gets weaker and his eyes finally closed, eyelids too heavy.   
Bakura, forcing himself not to cry begins a healing spell. He prays to Thoth for the knowledge to heal Marik, beginning to seal the wound with fabric. Splinters from the spear still stick into Marik's abdomen, the specific places lost in the mess of blood. He could pull one and dislodge a major artery, causing Marik to bleed out to death - but he needs to get them out and Thoth isn't telling him where they are. He just has to slowly pull out the splinters with shaking hands listening to the man beneath him scream bloody murder in his agony. Finally the splinters re removed and Bakura patches up the wound.   
"Marik, you're glowing,"   
"Shut the fuck up, you'd sweat after being speared in the gut,"   
"No, dick - your pocket is glowing!"   
Marik looks down and sure enough his wand is glowing brightly in his pocket, sparkling through the fabric. He pulls out the ivory wand and watches as the ivory seems to carve itself, chipping away until the detailed forms of the Egyptian Gods form. Slifer the Sky Dragon, Obelisk the Tormentor and the Winged Dragon of Ra. "Fuck..." he whispers in awe, showing he wand to Bakura.   
"Ryou you sly fuck..." Bakura grins back, grasping Marik's arm and pulling him up. As he stands, the tomb shakes and small chips of stone begin to crumble from the walls.   
"The final battle," Bakura realises, beginning to walk slowly to the entrance. Marik follows silently, sadness crippling his legs, making them feel like lead. Too heavy to drag along and too stiff to bend. Bakur stops too, looking back at Marik with melancholic acceptance. It's time for Zork to claim his payment from Bakura - their deal has ended.


	11. 11

Zork knows. How can he not? He will fail and the prophecy will be fulfilled since Marik now has the God cards. A last ditch effort to preserve a decade-old plan to plunge the world into eternal shadows commences. He will draw the power of the Millennium Ring and the spirit who dwells within to desperately cling to his future of shadows. When Bakura made the deal with Zork to allow Yugi and the others safe passage to Egypt, he bargaining himself in exchange. 

*

Back in 2019 

"Name your price," Bakura stands his ground before the evil that has plagued him from childhood. Brainwashed his sadness into hate - using him as a pawn in a plot before discarding him to be consumed under the shadows. He feels nothing but pure hate for this grinning behemoth standing over him. But the time to kill Zork is not now, the time to kill him is 5,000 years ago when the Pharaoh will be resurrected. He bows to Zork who sits atop his throne in the realm of Shadows. 

"My price is you," Zork states in amusement. Marik, who's been silent since they passed through the warp gate, steps forward. 

"You can't!" 

"He can," Bakura states with determination. "I accept your deal," 

"B-Bakura!" 

"Excellent," Zork confirms their accord by sealing their souls, melding them as they once were within the Ring. It's painful for Bakura in so many ways, tearing open his consciousness. He's less accustomed to pain as he was in his Ancient Time. Once their souls are merged once again he feels the burning gold against his skin. He is that spirit once more. "Go, try and resurrect the Pharaoh. Your efforts are futile," 

Bakura grabs Marik's hand firmly and they hed towards the warp gate. He can feel the Shadows brushing gently against his skin, a chilling force of evil. Their own world isn't much better but here feels all too familiar to the crumbling city of Kul Elna. Bakura wouldn't be surprised if the sprits haunting him now were those of his family he was unable to avenge. 

"Don't tell the others about this. Especially Ryou if he asks" he warms Marik, who stares at him like a stranger. Distraught at his partner's inevitable fall to the shadows. "Promise me Marik," 

"I promise," he agrees, telling the truth for once. The warp gate opens once again so they can pass through. Bakura has freed the rebellion against the shadows but only at the cost of his life. 

* 

The ring burns so much now, searing through his skin until it wedged it's way under the flesh, creating thin waterfalls of blood trickling down Bakura's chest. His shirt hides most of it so Marik cannot see. And in a flash Bakura the resurrected is gone and in his place is the Spirit of the Ring, that husk of a person Marik remembers from Battle City. The Spirit stomps io to Marik, gripping his chin under iron strength. 

"Marik Ishtar, it's been a while," the Spirit grows, roughly letting go or his face. His jaw is bruised and tender to touch. "You will hand me that wand and the power of the Egyptian Gods now!" 

"No," Marik brandishes the wand in defence. He points it at the Spirit. His hand shakes, he sees Bakura beyond that shining object. His wonderful Bakura who healed his wounds and performed magic and walked down his former self. Reformed from this villain before him into something of a hero. Is that person entirely gone? His word drops, his defences drop. "O-Okay..." 

He hands the wand over to the spirit and waves of shadowing darkness shoots from it, spiralling into the air like energy sources of evil. The Spirit grins. "You fool..." its shoulders shake as it laughs. "I am Zork, the manifestation of evil and hatred! And you, Marik, Bakura loves you the most. I think I'll destroy you first to watch him suffer..." 

Marik closes his eyes to prepare for death but death doesn't come. It's a chasm of black silence for several seconds. He counts. Ten. Twenty. A minute. This is torture, he has no idea what's going on. Marik opens his eyes to reveal the Spirit standing there in a daze, staring up at the sky, wand hanging loosely in his hands. Fixed like a statue. 

"What happened...?" Marik asks, reaching over to touch the Spirit. But from his study of ancient texts he knows exactly what happened. Bakura sacrificed his soul to remove Zork from his body and secure the God Cards. The wand falls from his hands and clatters to the floor. He'd fall too at the slightest breeze. With eyes full of tears Marik picks up the wand, turning it over in his hands. 

"I'm so sorry Bakura," 

He gently removed Bakura's gun from his back, leaving him standing. Hobbling around the crumpling maze of a tomb he narrowly avoids the roof caving in on him and shots several more guards - using Bakura's gun as a kind of way to honour them. Marik reaches an entrance to the tomb where the chaotic Egyptian city is falling all around him. People screaming, running in terror from the gargantuan monster that terrorises the city. There he is in all his glory - Zork. 

Marik imagined him differently. With white patches and crooked bones and fearsome blades for claws like the scriptures told him. Instead he is an all black behemoth with draconic wings, scarlet eyes  and... oh.  That. He wishes Bakura told him about that. Marik climbs to the top of the temple overlooking the city and Zork in the distance. The monster seems to notice him there, a spec of ruin in the distance. "Come on, come and get me!" Marik calls. He's going to draw Zork towards him to limit damage to the town. And to avenge his beloved Bakura. 

Marik draws Zirk towards him, hearing the monster catch up to him with each step. He rushes to the battlefield of the Pharaoh, the Pharaoh who is falling just as he did the first time. Pharaoh Atemu looks upon, seeing Marik rush towards him. "Who are you?" he asks, power draining and his eyes turning glassy. He sees how Marik is dressed and the strange weapons he possesses but what realm this strange person is from makes no difference. He is already dying. His energy is depleted, he has no power and may as well give up. There isn't the influence of the Gods within him anymore or the power of his congregation. His heka is gone. That's it, Zork has won. 

"Great Pharaoh, my name is Marik Ishtar and I hold the power of the Egyptian Gods," Marik hands Atemu his wand with the clear carvings upon its face. "I cannot explain, only I am giving you this wand so you can save the future of this land and my own. Use their power to defeat Zork," 

The Pharaoh takes the wand, examining it. A rush of power enters his bruises and broken body, restoring his vision sharply to observe the blood running down his own body and along the streets. Victims of his own and Zork's battle. Marik watches, feeling the utter futility of this attle now. He wanted to tell Bakura he loves him because he thought he was dying. But now Bakura is gone and he still never got to tell him. Maybe once this is all over he will. But then there'll be no reason for Ryou to resurrect him - and can that even be done more than once? - with his occult magic. He isn't going to get his Bakura back, Marik resigns himself to that. 

Zork advances slowly on Marik and The Pharaoh, crushing buildings in his path with ease, paying no mind the stone structures underneath his massive scaled feet. His soul and mind is no longer connected to Marik, the monster before him can only roar uncomprehendingly. Marik cannot speak through the Spirit of the Ring. Marik assumes this anguished roaring must be a language but he can't distinguish anything but hoarse screams. 

The wand flashes ever brighter in the hands of the Pharaoh. He is the only one who could control the Gods after all, their combined power  tearing him apart as he summons them. "Gods of Egypt and defenders of this world. I call upon you to secure the safety of the future! Egyptian God cards, destroy the Shadows!" 

Marik thinks, and to avenge his Bakura. That is what motivated him to carry on and get this wand to the Pharaoh. Even if Bakura isn't resurrected he will still be avenged. His future is bleak anyway, his goal reduced to only this. 

From the Pharaoh's wand shoots a blinding light spanning across the entire Egyptian sky, alighting it in a shimmering glow. The white light splits into absorbent colour, yellow red and blue which split into beams descending from the heavens. From the clouds lower the celestial bodies of the omnipotent Egyptian Gods. Slifer the Sky Dragon with a burst of electricity stretching across the skyline, Obelisk he Tormentor with a powerful change in wind direction caused by his massive force, and The Winged Dragon of Ra who splits the clouds open and reveal the sunlight Marik has sorely missed for years. It gouges his eyes add makes them water but he isn't closing them. Not when he could miss this last glimpse of sunlight forever. 

The Egyptian Gods attack with such a noise and such a force that Marik is swept off his feet, the wound barely healed catching up to him. So the Pharaoh will win then, and return to his afterlife. Bakura will be avenged, that makes him smile. He feels himself falling to the ground and his consciousness leave him. He watches through his descent the bloodshed and carnage of the city and the time at the Pharaoh's hands. He watches Zork crash to the ground on a plumage of purple smoke and the release of the screaming souls of damned shadows. Will this be enough to restore the future? Marik closes his eyes, feeling his speed pick up as he fast approaches the ground and his demise. What a fitting end after losing his Bakura.


	12. 12

2014\. 

"Well? Did it work?" Jo questions the others who look just as clueless as her. 

"Wait," they hear Ryou gasp by the edge of their group. His body is glowing bright white expanding from the tips of his fingers. He begins to crack and piece into these glowing shards. Pieces of his body just leave him in tiny increments lost in the light, evaporating before his eyes as if carried off in the wind. "What's happening to me?" 

Ryou relaxes. He doesn't know what this is but he trusts in his own magic and in Marik and Bakura to have pulled something off. He isn't in pain, just confused as he leaves this timeline behind. Yugi tries to cling to him but he diffuses from this dimension anyway. As soon as he evaporates they hear Yami call. "Everyone, look!" Yugi is disappearing too, from the feet up. 

"Yug!" Jo wraps her arms around her vanishing lower. Tears spring in her eyes and she holds onto him tightly with everything she has. She won't lose Yugi, not again. She already lost him once to grief and that was enough. "Stay with me... you gotta... I love you Yugi..." 

"I love you Jo," Yugi smiles sadly, reaching up. Before he can caress Jo's cheek he loses that part of himself too. He disappears entirely. The blonde collapses into a crying mess on the pavement. 

"Jo... it's alright..." Yami tries to console the blubbering blonde before him. 

"It's Joey!" Joey spits at him indignantly, wiping tears on his sleeve. "Yugi... oh man I'm all alone... he's left me alone again..." 

"Joey, it's alright! Look!"

"Yami's right, Joey!" Tea gasps. She too is breaking off into pieces of translucent film. Her entire legs are almost gone. Joey is too, from his feet like Yugi did. He just didn't notice until now. He smiles. Maybe at least he can join Yugi now. It doesn't matter where the Hell they're going as long as he gets to be with Yugi. 

They leave entirely. Out of this time, maybe this dimension. Who knows? Yami stands in the centre of the schoolyard for a mere second before the Joey of this time and Tristan run over to him, having been searching around frantically all over campus. "Hey Yugi!" The 2014 Joey runs up. "Where the heck 'ave you been? We've been worried sick!" He chides. 

"Yeah," Tristan agrees. "We've been looking all over!" 

"Why?" Yami asks. Surely there can't have been another important event while he was dealing with post-apocalyptic magical time travellers? 

"It's the weirdest thing!" Tristan assures. "We saw another Joey!" 

Yami sighs in relief. Oh good. It was just the post-apocalyptic magical time travellers and he doesn't have to deal with any other insane threats of ending the world. 

Meanwhile.

 

"B-Bakura..." Marik hoarsely gasps. His mouth feels dryer than the desert and his lips are painfully chapped. He sits up, a mirage of colours blending before his eyes before they sharpen into a disappointing reveal. The world as he's known it. Full of darkness and ghoulish spirits waiting around ad the only luminescent beings permitting sight in this otherwise black abyss. Back in 2019 and back in Domino City. He sobs slightly for he failed. He failed Yūgi and Joey and most of all Bakura. His Bakura who sacrificed himself to save Marik, to save the world. 

What a waste. He would have done a much better job. 

"The Shadows can be deceiving can't they?" Marik looks over and sitting on the roof of an old wrecked car torn apart for parts is Bakura. He grins over at Marik and pats the roof beside him. Marik climbs the car and sits on the roof beside. The shadows can be deceiving. 

"Is this real?" Marik asks, voice cracking on the edge as he stops himself crying once again. Crying won't do him any good - it won't do Bakura any good. "Are you real?"

"I am real here," Bakura smiles. His hand slides over and on top of Marik's, just resting there. It's warmer than expected. 

"What does that mean?" Marik asks, feeling the warmth of Bakura's hand reverberate across his entire body. It soothing somehow, it makes this strange place with colours more vibrant than he remembers and a psychedelic layer plastered on the world he abandoned seem beautiful. He doesn't mind living in this apocalyptic wasteland of shadows if he can be with Bakura. They should have just stayed together in the first place. 

"It means I am real in your memories, for that's what this place is," his memories? Marik wonders what that means for him and the rest of the world. Is he alive or dead? Bakura keeps smiling, features sharp and gaze determined. 

"Can I stay here?" he asks. 

"It's up to you. You stay here with me for maybe..." Bakura checks his wrist as if it's adorned by a watch. "Nine to fourteen minutes..." 

"Or?" 

"You can leave and exist for another, hm... forty years?" 

"Without you," Marik states with disdain. 

"Well yes," Bakura sighs in resignation. "But just so you know, none of this was in vain. The world has healed, the Shadows are gone. That I can promise you... why are you crying?" 

Marik reaches up, wiping away hot tears that roll down his cheeks and exhaling deeply to calm his nerves, afraid he's going to burst out sobbing. "You've suffered so much, this shouldn't have happened..." his voice cracks and his words shake against the wind. "None of this should have happened!" he screams indignantly into the abyss. 

"Go back already, You're already losing oxygen. There's about 2 minutes left before this place starts to die..." Bakura orders curtly, ripping his hand from Marik's. He doesn't say he loves him and Marik can't respond. The Egyptian just closes his eyes and counts each passing second and opens them again.

Present Day. 

He has returned from Ancient Egypt, he realises when he opens his eyes and the ruins of the pyramids are strewn around him. The world is still a wreck. Only now he sun shines brightly onto the streets lighting them up with its shimmering glow. Dark pavement turns to good alignment it's sparkling so brightly after all this time. It's an illusion because nobody has seen the sun in 4 years but that makes it no less accurate when the entire world is suddenly aglow. 

People emerge from their homes crying. They break down over the shadows finally dispersing and releasing themselves from this world. Marik smiles. It worked, they did it! Zork was defeated by he resurrected Pharaoh and peace has been established. Sure, it'll take some time to restore the world to what it once was but that's okay. He'll be there to ensure it goes smoothly. 

But despite this joyous day when people since in the streets and praise their respective God(s) for such a git Marik still feels empty. Bakura still isn't here and he till can't share it with him. There is some solace that his sacrifice wasn't in vain. He begins to wander from the land of Kings to find the others who no doubt succeeded in their part of Bakura's plan for their triumph.

"Marik!" 

Marik hears a call from beyond the sands, the wind whipping up a sandstorm in response to the sudden global climate shift. "I'm here!" He calls, fearing his voice won't reach them. Thankfully he spots dark silhouettes against the light among the dancing ribbons of sand that frolic through the air like ballet ribbons. 

Joey crashes into him for a hug. Yūgi too. Tea and Ishizu. Crying and rejoicing. The Age of Shadows has come to an end and persons reclaim their place as the stewards of this world. "Where's Bakura?" 

The question hands tensely between them all. It was Ryou who asked already frowning knowingly. Marik has Bakura's gun on his shoulder. Any happiness he felt from the apocalypse ending ceases and tears once again spring in his eyes. "He didn't make it..." his voice quivers, staring at his boots. "He sacrificed himself for us," 

Instead of grave mourning as Marik expected he's met with a groan of annoyance. "Ugh, self-sacrifice is such a tedious process to reverse," Ryou rolls his eyes. 

"Reverse?" Marik asks. 

"Indeed. The afterlife is so grateful to the souls who died from self sacrifice," Isuzu concurs. "They tend not to come back without a fight. Why would they want to leave?" 

"What are you talking about?" Marik chokes a sob, not daring to hope. "Can you get him back?" 

"With inconveniences, I suppose we have to," Ryou sighs. "We kind of owe him a rebirth,"

There's unanimous agreement from everyone except Marik. He remains silent and anonymous with his gaze on his boots, expression darkly concealed by his fringe. 

"Marik? Don't you think so?" Ryou asks aloud. Suddenly Marik look up and grabs Ryou into a tight hug. 

"Th-Thank you!" He cries, even more of a blubbering mess than Joey was earlier.


	13. 13

The ritual takes place amongst the confusion and chaos of the Age of Rebirth, the title given to this world escaping the shadow realm. Scientists are baffled by what's happened - none can explain either how the shadows took over or how they disappeared. Only very few people will ever know. The first order of business among those in relative power was a selection of government and establishment of law. That didn't work. After 4 years of complete autonomy nobody was willing to return to a Hobbesian covenant of assumed consent with a state. So they're still trying to work out what to do. If 9/10ths of the population hadn't been killed there might've been a war, but that can't really happen with fewer than 800,000,000 people existing across the expanse of the planet. 

Somehow Ryou didn't think this would be the outcome. He thought it'd go back to literally what it used to be. As if the apocalypse never happened. Instead their entire society is crumbled in ruins and returning to what but was before . But he isn't disappointed, things were pretty bad before. Now they can rebuild the world from scratch using (he hopes) John Stuart Mill's Harm Principle. In the darkness of night, having dragged themselves back to the Ishtar residence among the screaming flames of the Rebirth, he begins the ritual. 

Using the same ancient text he used before to revive Bakura the first time, Ryou acts and the summoner for a spell conducted within the ritual circle. Marik watches, his stomach in knots, terror in his mind. He refuses to get his hopes up and instead feels like throwing up. A surge of anticipation rises internally as blue light ascends from the curve. 

""Now we wait," Ryou acknowledges quietly. "Marik, he may not be as you remember him. He may be mentally trapped under Zork. He might be as he was in the Ancient times. There's no guarantee it's the Bakura you know. I don't even know how reviving someone for a 2nd time works — especially when there have been multiple versions of him across timelines,"

"It'll be my Bakura," Marik states in a lifeless voice. Ryou just doesn't reply.

They watch the shimmering light for hours. Yugi and Joey huddle together under a blanket in the corner. They fall asleep holding hands, Joey's head leaning over and using Yugi's fluffy hair as a pillow. Eventually something begins to spark from the light. Ryou, who was almost falling asleep himself staring out at the stars, is first to notice. "Marik!" He hisses in a whisper. 

Marik lifts his head from sleeping on his bag and stares at the expanding light that grows in a spiral like a tornado dragging Poseidon from the depths. Once the light fades the shaking and very naked form of Bakura is left behind. He hunches on the floor and stares up with wide eyes. He locks gaze with Ryou and Marik, expression unchanging. 

"Hello," Ryou steps forward. He says it again in Ancient Egyptian in case this really is Bakura from Egypt. "My name is Ryou. What is your name?" 

Bakura quirks an eyebrow and stands up. "What the bloody Hell are you talking about Ryou?"

"Bakura!" Marik rushes forward and pulls Bakura in a tight hug. He pets him and kisses all over his cheeks letting himself sob and cry uninhibited. "Bakura... thank Ra, I thought I lost you!" 

"It would have been a far greater tragedy to lose you Marik," Bakura looks out the window at the full moon and a soft smile spreads across his face. "You did it. Well done," 

"You - you did it Bakura!" Marik grips his shirt, looking into his eyes. Their faces draw closer, fingers weaving together as Marik rests his tired forehead against Bakura's. "You scared me so much..." 

"I really do apologise," he lifts his head and kisses Marik's nose. "I'll never leave you again,"

"Promise me," 

"I promise," 

Bakura's lips subtly brush against his but still they pull their bodies apart, hands slipping into a loose hold as they stare into each other's smiles. Marik sighs and feels down his arms, his front. Remembering, he pulls Bakura's gun from his waistband. "Here," he hands it out but Bakura just smiles at him. 

"You can keep it. You and your family need more protection in this house even if the shadows are no longer a threat," Bakura reasons. He tends to speak in long sentences that have Marik listening intently as if being read a bedtime story. But this just crushes him. There's no reason to go back to Domino anymore. The shadows are gone, he has his family and nobody had called to him for help. He can play a proper, functioning role in society here. Without Bakura. 

"Would you never stay with me?" Marik asks sadly. Bakura gives him a sad, regretful smile. 

"I'm sorry Marik. Everything I hated lies here, under these sands. And everything I've known in my freedom is in Domino. You understand, I cannot remain in Egypt," 

"Yeah... I understand,"

"If I'm honest," Bakura wheezes out a laugh, one that badly hides his tears. "I was hoping you'd come back with me," he rips his gaze from Marik and tugs away his hand. Fixating on a specific point in the wall he sways in his feet. Resurrection is exhausting, he learned both times. He wants to sleep and maybe that's why he's so emotional? Yes, that's why. Not because Marik Ishtar is driving the bullet that killed him through his organs with every second of silence. 

"You're so oblivious," Marik chuckles and shakes his head. He's so innocent in so many ways, the Ring is to blame for that. It's cute and makes Marik feel like a teacher. He advances on Bakura and grabs his hand again, lifting it up and kissing it elegantly. The perfect gentleman. 

"Of course I want you to come back with me You're my Bakura," I state possessively, interlocking our fingers and pulling him closer once again. My arms wrap loosely around his waist and hang on his pale hipbones. "Whichever version of yourself you are know that I will always love you. The thief, the evil spirit or the saviour - none of it matters to me. You are mine, that is all," 

Bakura watches me silently, baffled by my sentiment. From the wall Tea stirs and opens her eyes, they widen. "Everyone, wake up!" she calls and shakes Joey. "Bakura's back!" 

"So the ritual worked!" Ishizu exclaims, coming in from the doorway in her nightgown. She shares a look with Ryou. 

"Holy crap, ya did it!" Joey ruffle's Ryou's hair and walks over to Bakura. He hugs him suddenly, letting go just as quick as he did and hands him a long quilt jacket, the one he was using as their blanket. Yugi rubs his eyes tiredly. 

"Oh... Bakura, you're awake," he smiles but it's hollow. 

"Yeah," the white haired thief turns to Marik. "I' awake and I feel so alive right now," 

 

*

 

Yugi wanders onto the deserted street below. He needs some air, some alone time. He remembers when his soul was trapped inside that stone tablet after the Seal of the Orichalcos trapped him in that realm of emptiness. When he lost his soul to his repressed feelings about Yami - the anger and rejection. This feels the same only there's nothing left to repress. He's lost in an empty realm but this time he's entirely numb to it. He's alone in this body he shared for so long, the apocalypse just buried these feelings. Now that's its over he experiences grief for the first time and it's destroying him. 

"Yug'?" It's Joey standing at the front door to the Ishtar house. He closes it behind him and walks up. "Hey man, what's wrong? Aren't ya happy?" 

"No," How can he be? "Joey, why cant we do it? Just try it, once?" 

"Yug'..." 

"If Bakura can come back then so can he!" his scream bounces off the buildings. Never one to hold back tears he cries only, falling crippled onto his knees at this loss. He's lost everything, it was all ripped away from him by that monster and now the accomplice to Zork is sitting in that house being gushed over. Ryou gets him back. Marik gets him back. Yugi gets nothing, the Pharaoh is gone forever. 

"You know we can't do that..." Joey sighs. "Bakura was sent to the Shadow Realm. The Pharaoh is gone to the afterlife. Gone for good, he can rest now," 

Yugi looks up, devastated at his boyfriend. He can only see a blurry blonde head through his tears. "What about me?" 

Joey frowns, kneeling down on the sand and pulling Yugi into his arms. He lets him lie in his lap, cradling his head into his nape. He feels Yugi's arms wrap around his neck. "Kaiba dealt with his grief, so can you. We can get you help," 

"How?" Yugi demands. "Kaiba dealt with his grief because he had the money, power and technology to fuck off to a sky palace the second the shadows came. How am I meant to get help with the world the way it is?!" It's hopeless and he's helpless. An eternity of loss awaits him in a set course for nothing by misery and memories. Staring at photographs so he doesn't forget each small change to him the Pharaoh caused. Not just physically. He is responsible for all Yugi's strength and strategy. That's all been him and now it's gone forever. Hopeless once again to revive him. 

But not really. It's been gone since the moment Atem walked into the light of the afterlife. He's just been in denial this whole time. He can move past it finally. This isn't a loss, this isn't the death of his partner. It's the beginning of a new world in which grieving for him is actually possible. And that's such a relief. And maybe subconsciously why Yugi was so active in rebelling against the Age of Shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to do a tendershipping next. I love the ship but haven't been able to really cover it in a story. Thanks for reading!


End file.
